WITH MUSIC BY THE IRISH ROVERS
My Name is Lulu
Hello, we’ve not met, but on the occasion of what might be considered a tragedy, I’d like to introduce myself as one who knew Louie as no human could. They call me Lulu and that suits me fine as names go because it is the feminine counterpart of my dear Louie. It seems somehow appropriate to inform you on this day of merriment, St. Patrick’s Day, that Louie has crossed The Rainbow Bridge. The Rainbow Bridge is the expression humans use when a beloved pet has died and while we of the wilder kingdom normally take these things in stride, still I can see why the vision of a rainbow, especially the rainbow that the Irish describe as having a pot of gold at the end, is just the right way to describe it…in words. The pot of gold is the treasure trove of memories that the departed leave us here, to suffice, until we meet again.
Louie was one tough egg, a golden egg. He stood out from the crowd even at altitude which is the vantage point I had at the beginning of last year’s southward migration when I first saw Louie. I am a Canada Goose, a wild one, but Louie tamed my wild nature and showed me the benefits of the domestic life and a monogamous partnership. The domestic thing took a bit of adjustment, but Miss Leah immediately took me in without reservation as one of the family and there was ample space for guests and travelers to rest their weary wings on her beautiful ranch, with a warm sheltered cubbie in her garage, right next to Louie. Even the dogs were welcoming! And that pond! Oh my, it even has a waterfall. I couldn’t resist.
Monogamous partnership comes naturally to us geese. We mate for life, but I never expected to fall in love with, well…a Domestic! I think it’s a universal trait though, that if there’s one thing we girls can’t resist, it’s a sense of humor and Louie kept me in stitches. Louie entertained us all with his droll observations and his hilarious imitations of how humans walk.
Clark and I both tried to keep up with him, but comedic timing is something you’re born with. It was just more fun to let Louie provide all the entertainment.
At first I blamed myself for Louie’s demise. I think he was trying to impress me with his bravery, like he could be wild too, as he started to venture further and further from the human space and closer to the brushes where hungry things lurk at dusk. It just happened so quickly, my instincts took over, that dreaded snap of twigs, Louie yelling, “Save yourselves!”, as Clark and I took wing, not thinking…Louie never learned to fly. Louie didn’t have to prove anything to me.
We of the natural world know that it would be pointless to resist nature in any of its appearances. We do not suffer death, but celebrate its natural occurrence as we celebrate life itself. This is why I chose to celebrate Louie’s passage as the Irish do. Here is how Louie lives in us:
He had an Entourage Montage (Louie’s words, not mine)
Louie We Barely Knew Ye…
But Our Irish Eyes are Smilin’ Today, Remembering You.
Now Everybody Get Up and Dance!
Whack fol the dah will ya dance to yer partner
Around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn’t it the truth I told you?
Lots of fun at Louie’s Wake