Tribute to Tristan Menard
June 17, 1995 – March 31, 2007
Almost 10 years ago, you entered our life, and things were never the same. The first few days were hard on all of us. You were skittish and so were we! And of course there was the famous swimming pool incident that caused you to dislike me for a mere year-and-a half. There was also the infamous “back to the puppy farm” incident which caused Gretchen to leave work early to save you from that fate (I really wouldn’t have done it). Once we all settled in, however, we became a family. It was a “great run” that came to its inevitable end.
When you left us it broke my heart. In my mind I know that no person or animal lives forever. In my heart, I kept wishing that an exception could be made in your case. I was being selfish, because I didn’t want to part with the good feeling that I always had when I saw you.
It is so hard for us to drive into the garage and not have your face in the dining room window, followed by that sprint into the family room. We miss the dance of joy that you always had for Gretchen when she returned home. I’m a little bit jealous that I never got a dance of joy, but you often came to the window when I got home, so that’s a small sign that you also missed me.
I miss the walks at night and Gretchen’s impatience with your obsessive peeing on every tree, bush, mailbox and loose piece of poop. I miss your excitement at the very thought that we might be going for that walk.
I miss you lying by the table as we eat our dinner each night, and always resisting the temptation to sample food from the table. I miss you jumping up in anticipation as one of us started to cut up a little something from our plate to put in your bowl.
I miss you bunching up the blanket on your bed at night and then circling around to settle down in just the right position. I miss being awakened in the middle of the night as you made adjustments to your bunched up blanket.
I miss your love of “dressing up” for company. The bandanas and bow ties that you were always so excited to put on. I miss you lying in the dining room while we entertained people – so quiet and well-behaved.
I miss the tricks that Gretchen taught you – shaking hands, sitting, speaking, bowing. I miss lying on the floor with you in front of the TV and having you cuddle close to me.
Most of all, though, I just plain miss “Mr Tris”.
Dennis and Gretchen Menard