Hi Steve, I love this story about gentle ben. Thanks for sharing. Original message: > Gentle Ben > This is dumb. I mean, Ben was just a dog, and he wasn't even my dog. > But something about Ben captured a big piece of my heart. And now, > today, that piece of my heart is broken. Is that dumb, or what? > To be honest, I don't remember when or how I first became aware of Ben. > I'm not exactly what you would call a pet person. I've always seen the > dogs in the neighborhood as... well... dogs, something to be tolerated, > not necessarily embraced. But there was something about this big old > yellow Lab that made me notice him, and eventually love him, despite my > best efforts to remain indifferent. > I think he first captured my attention as the leader of our > neighborhood doggy gang. > I know you would normally call a group of dogs a pack, but that would > suggest more organization, structure and purpose than these guys had. > There were three or four of them, and they just sort of cruised the > neighborhood, playing with children, yapping at cars and begging for > food. Ben was clearly the alpha leader of the gang, because he was far > and away the biggest of the dogs, but also because he had this powerful > personality that seemed to permeate the entire gang... er... pack... > er... whatever. > And that wasn't a bad thing. I quickly learned that Ben's personality > was something special. Not to get too anthropomorphic or anything, but > Ben was a gentle soul. Sure, he was also playful, fun, loyal and > good-natured - all of those things that are often attributed to beloved > dogs, but he was first and foremost gentle. I don't remember ever > hearing him growl or bare his teeth or act in an intimidating way - > ever. There was a basic goodness and sweetness about him that made you > feel that he was... I don't know... kind, and caring, and > compassionate. Is that dumb? > Certainly, Ben was special to my family, even though he wasn't ours. > When my daughter Andrea was living at home, Ben would follow her when > she went out jogging. I never feared for Andrea's safety because I knew > Ben would take care of her. My son Jon would love to have a dog, but > since we don't (see above), I have often found him playing and > wrestling on the lawn with Ben. And even though she is allergic to dog > hair, my wife, Anita, always carves out a piece of every pot roast and > takes it outside to Ben, who seems to know when it is time to camp > outside our back door and wait for his share of our dinner. > For my part, Ben has been my barbecue buddy. I don't know if it's the > smell of the propane or what, but 10 minutes after I fire up the > barbecue, he's there. He doesn't beg, exactly, he just stretches out on > the grass in the shade of our backyard apple tree and patiently waits. > Occasionally he lifts up his head to look at me, in much the same way > that Anita will occasionally poke her head out the back door to see how > the grilling is coming. When Ben gets up and saunters over to the > grill, I know that it's time to eat. > I'll probably burn our next barbecue, because he won't be there to tell > me when it's done. > The last time we saw Ben was early last Friday morning. We were packing > the car to take a quick trip out of town. Ben was just sitting there, > watching me pack the car. > He wasn't frolicking like he used to when he was a pup, but he sat > there, and I talked to him a little as I prepared to leave. Then Jon > came outside and scratched the back of Ben's head. > "Hey, Buddy," Jon said, as Ben looked up at him with those adoring eyes > of his. "Did you come to say good-bye?" > Evidently, he did. When we got home Sunday night, our neighbor > tearfully told us that Ben had been peacefully put to sleep. We knew > Ben was getting old, but we weren't aware of the health problems he was > having that finally caught up to him that morning. > So it was startling to us. > We took our evening walk in silence. We informed other neighbors of the > loss in hushed tones. Tears were shed by all of us, who believe that > our neighborhood is a kinder, gentler place because we knew and loved a > dog named Ben, even if that sounds... you know... dumb.
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