Friday, May 27, 2016

Nubie's Book of Living and Dying

I've never read the Tibetan Book of the Dead. I also acknowledge that our beloved boy, Nubie, was nothing much like his namesake, Anubis, jackal-headed Egyptian god of the underworld and/or embalming and maybe weighing your heart against a feather. He was just our big boy, our worrier, our food-driven couch dweller who hated to go out in the rain.

I will stay on the gravel until the grass dries out.
I am waiting for my pillows to be rearranged. Make it snappy.

This is the last time I will ever hold still for a picture.

Underworld ruler or not, Nubie taught us a bunch of really useful things.

For living:
* The answer to "how many blankets or pillows do you need?" is ALWAYS: "One more please."


* Food tastes best when inhaled with barely a chew, giving the illusion that there never was any food in the bowl, with the possibility that some nice human will think they forgot to put food in the bowl and will therefore put MORE food in the bowl.

* Why swim...

 when you can take the mama boat? 



* Little brothers are a pain in the everything but must be endured because clearly, they are never going home.

* Walks are good, but couches are better, even if you have to share them with aforementioned little brothers.







* Everything tastes better when you pick it yourself. Especially raspberries. 


 * Every family needs a lifeguard. It's OK for that to be your job.


Always eat the cantaloupe. Even if it hasn't been peeled. You'll be so glad you did.




For dying:
* Don't linger. 3 weeks is long enough for people to come see you and say goodbye.

* Sample ALL the foods on offer. Canned dog food is OK for a day or two, but soon they'll trot out turkey and chicken and ham, scrambled eggs, hamburger, and sweet potato baby food. When push comes to shove, a really nice lady (thank you grandma) will bring bacon.

* Sigh, snore, and fart in your sleep. You've always done it, you can't stop now.

* Stare deeply into your loved ones' eyes. It helps them imprint your face on their memories.

* Let them know, without a shadow of a doubt, when it is time. Close your eyes. Sleep.

Rest in Peace, most beloved boy.