Tuesday, December 18, 2007

The Story of Ma'ii

I decided to transcribe an entry from my journal. Here is the story of my little Ma'ii (coyote)

The sad bit of news is the passing of Ma’ii. I have only touched on him once in this journal. That, is a shame. He has made a lasting impact on my life. He made me so happy and asked little in return. Ma’ii was a loving, loyal, well natured dog. He had no enemies and was friendly with everyone. The little pee-factory. The licking dog. My little buddy . . . is dead. A few words on the cause of his passing are necessary. Two days ago, on Saturday morning, I woke in the same manner I had throughout the week. Ma’ii liked my face around 5:30 AM, signaling his need to go outside for his morning pee. I soon fell back asleep and woke later (about 8:30AM) to see the Tour de France highlights from that day. I decided to give Ma’ii some exercise with a bike ride to he windmill that morning before it became too hot. Before I left, Ma’ii and I wrestled for a few moments. I distinctly remember thinking, “he makes me so happy.” Off on our bike ride we went.

I took a different route from normal. I headed to the windmill from the south. Traveling with me were Took, Shaggy #2, and the black female dog. Of course, Ma’ii was with me. I made it to the windmill and looked at little Ma’ii. The other dogs were roaming around, but my little buddy came right up to my bike and looked at me with anticipation. I remember looking at him and saying, “Alright little buddy, here we go!”

I pedaled a few times until the decline of the hill carried my speed. My bike was traveling very fast down the hilll. I thought how much fun it was and how I would do it again. I waited by the main dirt road for Ma’ii and the other dogs to catch up. After a few moments, Took, Shaggy #2, and the black dog appeared. I waited, wondering if Ma’ii had lost the trail. This didn’t seem very likely at the time. A car passed me. I decided to stop waiting and go up the hill to find my dog. All sorts of thoughts entered my mind.

Then the surreal - I saw a pack of dogs growling in the ditch by the side of the path - maybe 4 or 5 of them. I jumped off my bike with a distinct fear. I scared the dogs away and before me was a picture that I will not soon forget. A dirty pile of fur with its eyes half open remained. The dog was dead - no doubt about that. I knew it was Ma’ii but I could not comprehend what I saw. Then I saw the new collar on him that I gave him the night before. I picked him up, not sure of what to do. I became angry. I put him down, looked for a weapon, and sought out the sheep dogs. I knew it was futile, and so did they.

I returned to my fallen Ma’ii, still shocked. I had to get him back to my house. I threw him over my shoulder and rode home. My head became clear and I began to grasp the gravity of the situation. I came home and put him on the floor, weeping openly. I gave him a bath and dried him off. I put him in a pillow case with a toy, rawhide, and handwritten note. I got a shovel and set out to bury my fallen friend. It was so hard to drive, I was overcome by grief. I picked a spot by the ruins and began to dig. The digging helped me regain my composure. It was tough, the ground was hard, almost unaccepting of the task. I placed him in the hole and poured the dirt over him. I stacked a few rocks over the grave to mark the spot.

. . . .

that was the journal entry I made in tribute to Ma'ii. I thought putting him on my blog might help to perpetuate his memory.

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