If you look up the word "Happenstance" in the dictionary, you will see that it is defined as a chance event, an occurrence out of the blue, a freak event.
Just a short while ago, we buried our beloved Happenstance, known to most as Happy, and to our wonderful neighbor, Ron, as Yappy. He passed away this afternoon peacefully, on his own, in his home. He had begun to lose weight in last couple of months, but he was still himself, just looking trimmer. Until yesterday, he still had a great appetite and would warn the other dogs who got too close when he was eating that he needed his space. He told them with a friendly, but meaningful growl.
When I got home last night, Happy was literally in a daze and we suspect now that he had experienced some sort of stroke, since he was not himself at all. We quickly knew he was getting ready to transition and we made him comfortable in his bed, covered with a blanket, which he loved, affirmed and kissed him, and set him up so he could watch the normal routine of the day. In the early afternoon he left us, and we buried him this evening, close to the bunny area, since they made him laugh.
Happy was out first non-Boston rescue, and came to us after Chance died. When we had our animal communicator, Jane St. Croix, check in and ask our newest resident what he wanted to be called, she came back with "Happenstance." We were somewhat perplexed, but quickly reasoned we could call him Happy, and that would go well with Hope and Harmony. It was not until later that Dee checked the definition and saw that Happenstance was defined as 'a chance event.' Obviously, we were blown over since Happy took Chance’s place and the divinity and perfection was anything but a random occurrence. It was perfect and as it was supposed to be.
Happy was with us for almost exactly 7 years. Next to Harmony, who has been with us for more than 8 years, Happy was our longest tenured resident. He came to us in January 2002, very skinny, very afraid, very skittish, and wary of most everything. I remember having to literally pull him out of the dog kennel when he arrived. He left, however, a changed being. He transitioned as a regal, trusting, and completely contented puppy. He was one joyful boy and had come to know his place in his family and, indeed, the world. Like Spike last week, I know we did what we were supposed to do. We will miss him dearly, and while my heart aches, I know he had a great 7 years with us, and at 14, it was simply time to go.
This theme of change keeps coming at me, and I will confess to feeling challenged, indeed overwhelmed. We earnestly need as much financial support as possible and we are in the process of completing our 2008 financials, which will allow us to apply for grants, etc. I will also continue to request help from anyone and everyone who will listen, as I know in my heart of hearts that we are doing really important work in support of a previously forgotten community.
I will end with a sense of gratitude for having been blessed to have 7 wonderful years with the finest and most perfect Miniature Pinscher the world over.
God’s speed Min Pin Boy….I love you!