Ash Thoreau

The vet came and went. She has an awesome game plan. She made me feel so much better about my grumpy old man, Rex. She completely understood his condition, and for the first time in a while, I felt like a weight had been lifted.

I hadn’t seen her since before my old man Goose passed last year. When she asked how he was, I think it was just courtesy—anyone who knew his condition and how hands-on I was would know he was gone. But I told her how it happened. He passed at my mom’s farm while we were there for a visit. It was perfect. As I spoke, I unexpectedly burst into tears. I’ve been crying off and on since. I just love him so much.

After she left, I talked to my husband about the appointment—and about Goose. Somehow, we ended up on the subject of his “picture of the day.” His digital photo frame at work randomly selects the first image of the day, and today, it was Goose. He told me that first photo always sets the tone for his day, and he was happy to see Goose’s face.

That conversation made me share something I don’t usually talk about—my personal superstition.

When someone close to me passes, I always take note of the first song I hear afterward. I’ve always felt like it’s a message, a sign, a kind of summary. And even though I’m not religious in the slightest—and even though the rational part of me rolls its eyes at the thought—I can’t let it go.

The first song I heard after Goose passed was Trio in D Minor, Op. 97: III. Adagio by Eugène Walckiers, performed by Christophe Coin, Alexis Kossenko, and Edoardo Torbianelli.

Every time it comes on my playlist, I instantly lose it. Full ugly crying. Every time.

To me, the flute is my dog. It hits me deep in my soul and makes my heart swell up. The cello and piano feel like the passage of time and life, carrying him through all his adventures and trials. And in the end, it all ends so peacefully. So beautifully.

I’m crying just writing this.

I have no idea what the composer was thinking when he wrote it. I haven’t even listened to the other three movements. I don’t feel like I need to. They weren’t part of the message that day.

Dogs are the best. Music is incredible. Life is insane. And now, I wonder what song will play after my death? Hopefully Howard Fishman or Steep Canyon Rangers.

Featured Photograph: One of the last photos I have with all three of my dogs, before Goose passed.

Rex is in the foreground. Lily is leaned up against Goose, who is facing away.