Sage

Author Jon Katz defines a ‘lifetime dog’ as one that you make an inexplicable connection to; one that comes into your heart and there is a ‘click’ that puts the relationship on a much higher level. I can’t remember his words precisely, but it’s exactly how I feel about my relationship with my Sage. We very simply had it all. It would have been my most sincere wish to have her every day for the rest of my life. Not as full of pain as she became, of course, but feeling good. She has legions of friends and fans– and I take it as the highest tribute to her fine being that even people who didn’t like dogs, liked her very much. As my sister once said to someone about her: “Everybody loves Sage.” She lived up to her fine character with ease and grace. She is the most beautiful dog I’ve ever seen, and I photographed her incessantly. She is everywhere in the house: in the kitchen pushing her nose between me and the counter so as to beg a bite of whatever I was cooking; lying at the top of the stairs– waiting for me to be ready to go�wherever, nudging my arm with her nose to do something else or give her a pet whenever I was sitting at the computer, or in the basement painting too long, sticking her head in the fridge when I opened the door, to see what was in there that she might want, getting excited when I’d ask her if she wanted to either “go for a walk” or “go for a ride”. God– how she loved to ride in the car (and how I loved having her ride around with me!). She is my lifetime dog. I was blessed to have her for the short 13 years that I did– and I thank God for her. It was an absolute privilege. It was far too short. Thank you, Kathleen, for your sensitivity, and for providing her with as much dignity as the life she led. –Jan