I struggled overnight with this post. It was a lot to decide if I even wanted to post it at all.
It is with a broken heart that I have to share the news that our neighbors' dog Hash Brown passed away yesterday. He was hit by a car and they couldn't save him.
My heart hurts for them.
But this isn't my news - Hash Brown wasn't my dog. I wasn't sure if I should be so public about the loss of someone else's pet. But at times Hash Brown felt like a part time dog to us. He was there throughout the construction of the tiny house as he would bound up the hill with his tail wagging and his tongue lolling to greet us.
He would bring a stick and make us play with him until we got tired of the game. Hash Brown never got tired of the game.
For a while Hash Brown learned the command "Go home!" He would hang his little golden head and walk back down the mountain toward his own house. Later he decided he was going to stand his ground and when you commanded "Go home, Hash Brown," he would simply lay down and wait for you to forget that you wanted him to leave.
I never really wanted you to leave, Hash Brown. I hope you know that.
So many friends who worked on the tiny house will remember Hash Brown fondly. I want to give everyone a chance to remember this crazy dog and his crazy life. I know you would all want to know.
Hash Brown was a good friend to Life in 120 Square Feet and the building of this house wouldn't have been the same with out him. I'll miss you, HB. I'll miss you a lot.
It is with a broken heart that I have to share the news that our neighbors' dog Hash Brown passed away yesterday. He was hit by a car and they couldn't save him.
My heart hurts for them.
But this isn't my news - Hash Brown wasn't my dog. I wasn't sure if I should be so public about the loss of someone else's pet. But at times Hash Brown felt like a part time dog to us. He was there throughout the construction of the tiny house as he would bound up the hill with his tail wagging and his tongue lolling to greet us.
He would bring a stick and make us play with him until we got tired of the game. Hash Brown never got tired of the game.
 |
| A rare photo of Hash Brown being calm. |
I never really wanted you to leave, Hash Brown. I hope you know that.
So many friends who worked on the tiny house will remember Hash Brown fondly. I want to give everyone a chance to remember this crazy dog and his crazy life. I know you would all want to know.
Hash Brown was a good friend to Life in 120 Square Feet and the building of this house wouldn't have been the same with out him. I'll miss you, HB. I'll miss you a lot.
Your post brings tears to my eyes, but they're happier than the ones we've been having. This tribute is so amazing and I don't know how to thank you. I will never, ever forget your kindness. Long live, HB. :)
ReplyDeleteWell done, good and noble Friend.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for the loss of a beloved pet. We lost our American Eskimo, Yuki age 14, after a two battle trying to come back from a stroke. My heart goes out to the owner and to you. Prayer for you all. LP Leer
ReplyDeleteThough Hash Brown wasn't your dog, he was your friend. And we all miss our friends when they pass.
ReplyDeleteMy heart aches FOR you, as I know the pain of losing a 'friend'. It matters not that Hash Brown didn't 'belong' to you: do we REALLY 'own' our companions? When you feel the pain of losing a FRIEND, does it hurt any less or more depending on where that friend lived? Who they lived with? Of course not. It sounds as if Hash Brown made some very wonderful 'friends' in you and yours, and that very fact is supported by his wanting to simply BE around you all, as often as he could. Don't some of our BEST FRIENDS in life act thusly? We might joke about them being around all the time, or us not being able to 'shake them', or that they 'might as well live with us, you're here all the time anyway'... but we - and hopefully they - know we really do LOVE THEM. It is a GIFT to experience such friendships. It is painful when they end (why there's a huge market in 'Miss you' and sympathy cards), and that void is there, cold and empty, regardless of whether the vibrance and joy of a LIFE that had wondrously attached itself to us was human, or furred form.
ReplyDeleteMy thoughts are with you. Console yourself in the warm reminder that Hash Brown DID find some wonderful people to know, love and 'hang out with', for awhile. How sad HIS life would've been, had he spent those hours, instead, sleeping a few hours longer on his home porch, eating more than he should, chewing on a shoe out of boredom, watching ants on a sidewalk somewhere, whatever it is dogs (r cats) do when they are not socializing with us humans.
I think Hash Brown was very happy to have YOU in his life, as much as you were to have him in yours.
I would find and frame a good picture of him, place it someplace special in your tiny house, so that he can be remembered, at last, and at least, as a cherished family 'friend'.
Your story, and the grief of your loss (because it IS a huge loss, or you would not have felt the need to write down, and share, your pain) really touched me, as I recently experienced the loss of a dear companion (mine was a 'special' tabby called Cosmo: he had suffered some brain damage during difficult surgery when younger, and came out of it quite, welll... challenged, mentally and physically, but I LOVED him the same, perhaps even more, for the 8 years afterwards. Other people couldn't understand why I took it (his death) so hard. Cosmo was a real character. A friend. A companion, who happened to be a cat.
And Hash Brown sounds like he was a real character, a friend, and he deserves no less a special place in your hearts - and represented in a picture, on your wall or mantel!
Good luck. Keep your eyes and heart open for the true riches in our lives: friends. ;-)
jipsi
I always looked forward to a visit from Hash Brown whenever I came up the the Tiny House. Hearing that he's gone is very sad news indeed. I'm glad that I got the chance to play with him; he was a most awesome dog.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your love of animals. It speaks well of you to miss a friend like that. My pets are like my children and I am sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry... Animals touch us in ways we may not always realize until their impact is felt on a very personal level.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for your and your neighbor's loss of Hash Brown, a noble companion for sure. Bless the beasts, always.
ReplyDeleteso sorry for your loss and your neighbors who were hash brown's momma and daddy and family. it's a very hard thing to lose our precious companions. they give us so much love and so unconditionally and when they have to leave this earth, it is heartbreaking. i hope that your heart begins to heal with each day that passes and than your memories of hash brown will be fond ones safely tucked away in that special place in your heart. i appreciate that this sweet boy was not even yours and you feel his loss. that is not always the case.
ReplyDeleteWhat a sweet dog. I'm so sorry he's gone
ReplyDeleteBlessings, Joanne