Tag Archives: Gilgamesh

Tablet VIII

May the trees and the rocks and the trails

…..mourn you


May the paper birches strip themselves of their skin

…..and hobblebrush rip itself up by the roots

……….to lie down in weeping cradles

……………of meadowsweet and dog-toothed violet

………………..in mourning

May wooden bridges hurtle off foundations,

…..mourning the lack of your feet

May the beechnut keen itself in two and cast forth a grove of cedars


May quartz extrusions shaped like dragons

…..crack themselves open in the shape of your name

……….and weep ten thousand tears of garnet


May the deer, the moose, the wolves

…..mourn you

May coyotes fill meadows with lamentation for you

May the chickadee whistle your summons

…..forever mourning that you do not come

and may every dog lie down and howl


May every forest that lacks you

…..turn the billion scents of the world to one

……………and sandalwood become the breath

………………..of every living being who mourns you


My Onyx Anubis, my Friend:

…..I will fashion nothing for you

……….with these empty hands

……………but a place to carry you always


The skin of the lion will smell of you

…..and the wilderness echo with mourning


(Like) eagles’ wings over the beloved’s face,

…..my soul’s mourning


King Gilgamesh



If you would like to give a gift in memory of Gilly, you can send something to the Thomas J. O’Connor Animal Control and Adoption Center, who placed him in my arms 12 years ago. They will use it to help other animals find the people who need them.

Gilgamesh 8.13.2001 – 9.9.2013

8.13.2001 – 9.9.2013

Gilgamesh 8.13.2001 – 9.9.2013



Gilly’s last good (1/2) hour


One of his favorite places, where we’ve played hide and seek and catch-me for 12 years – as we did today, for 15 minutes of real, playbow, laughing play.


The beloved, the beloved’s face.


A couple of weeks ago: mac and cheese. Last week: lamb. Today: blueberry pie.
His three favorite foods.






uncomplicated forward motion




“Are you an angel made of pie?” I’ve asked Gilly thousands of times. “Or are you a pie made of angels?” We never did decide.
So much love. So many gifts.


15 minutes of play, another 15 of walking around together, sitting in the grass, singing our Sam Cooke song (he did his own whole verse), and that was all he had left. It was a perfect half hour, though. And though it cost him, he gave all he had to it. So did I.

My beautiful Gilgamesh.




A couple of things I need to say to the humans

To those who have loved Gilgamesh, and been his friend, and helped him and me along the way (especially in 2008 when he was so badly injured, you know who you are), you have my eternal gratitude and thanks.


To those who have really understood the relationship between me and him – through experience of their own, or through having kindred inugami mochi/witchy/shaman-y/call-it-what-you-like ways of being with animal familiars – even more gratitude. You make me less alienated in this moment.


To those who have fallen in love with Gilly a little bit, or a lot, through knowing him or through this blog or Facebook or whatever parts of this weird dogumentary thing I’ve done over the span of his life, I’m really glad you got to share some joy in him, and am constantly amazed by how much of his spirit has conveyed, to so many.  It moves me, as he does. As does your kindness and warmth.


Those who don’t get it won’t. But this I do need to say: regardless of whether this makes sense to you or ever will, for me this is a loss greater than any human one could be.


I don’t much care whether people get that, or love it or leave it, but do ask that people respect it.  Otherwise, all I ask is that people refrain from saying stupid, hurtful things, or making extra work for me right now, or otherwise acting like assholes in ways they would not if this was a death they did understand. I will do everything I’ve said I will do, because that’s what I do. Please just give me room, and be kind or be silent.


[If that sounds harsh, two things: 1) apologies, but it’s just information geared to prevent permanent fractures in otherwise working human relationships, and 2) believe me, it doesn’t sound half as harsh as some of the things people have said to me in the last weeks, from ignorance or selfishness.]


He’s not a partner. He’s not a child. He’s not a human. For me, he’s more.  And yes, he means more to me than any human on this earth.


For twelve years, every astonishing gift of a day.


What we have to do now is impossible.


It’s just Dylan Thomas from here.


Immense heart – Gilly’s and mine – extended to all who have been part of the joy.

Some favorites.

From Amherst to Ripton to Prout’s Neck to Martha’s Vineyard to Rockingham to Chesterfield to Jamesville to Goshen to – all over New England, being himself.