It’s been TWELVE (12)!!! years??! Holy cow. In spite of all the special dogs (Feargal, Fergus, Fred, Roux, Sascha, Bosco, Goose, Tessa and now Charlie) we’ve had since Bayley crossed the Rainbow Bridge, the first dog who enters your life always leaves the most special imprint on your heart. And Bayley was indeed a special first one. So much so that we remember him and his anniversaries all the time. Here’s the post from 12 years ago, maudlin and sentimental and all that.
Bayley Murphey Beagle 20-Aug-1994 — 2-Mar-2007
Dear Bayley Murphey,
Thank you for being such a wonderful and good dog, a loving companion, for keeping us sane, for loving us unconditionally, for being such an incredibly important part of our lives for 12-and-a-half years. Thank you for putting up with all the picture-taking, ear rubbing, nail clipping, bathing, teefs-brushing and hugs and kisses. Thank you for curling up against us on cold, winter nights. Thank you being the touchstone of our lives. Thank you for being you.
We tried hard to give you a good life, full of all the things that good dogs such as you deserve. From the time of your puppyhood until today, you tried so hard to be good and please us, and you always did. We are richer for having had you in our lives, much, much poorer for your passing. Your suffering is over, now it’s time to run baying through the fields, chasing rabbits, rolling in squirrel pee, and lying under a tree gnawing a never-ending supply of beagle bagels.
Rest and sleep well, pookus. You leave a very large hole in our hearts and our lives.
“After some interminably loud defending the walls of the castle, HIM the Roux comes inside and complains for 15 minutes to us churls about Townes very existence in the Royal Orbit. Part of the Complaint revolves around the undisputed Treasonous Conduct of us churls in Divers Huggings and Walkings and Flauntings of the Dangerous Interloper …” | Read more after the jump …
His Imperial Majesty the Roux is rather protective of the Royal Demesne. So whenever friend and neighbor, the talented Lars Thorson (who just happened to be on Good Morning America and the Colbert Show this week, but that’s another post) walks the incredibly adorable, majorly awesome puppy the Townes-ter, His Majesty and at least 3/4 of the Royal Court (Queen Sascha typically can’t be bothered to soil herself in territorial disputes) collectively lose their … little doggy minds.
After some interminably loud defending the walls of the castle, HIM the Roux comes inside and complains for 15 minutes to us churls about Townes very existence in the Royal Orbit. Part of the Complaint revolves around the undisputed Treasonous Conduct of us churls in Divers Huggings and Walkings and Flauntings of the Dangerous Interloper, but as long as we churls pay the castle expenses, a standoff situation is guaranteed to prevail.
(Also, see how His Majesty’s face is getting lighter and whiter? He’ll be a dead ringer for King Lear soon. His Highness shall be eight (8!) years old next month. Lord, His old age will be a Thing to Behold! Also, shhhhhhh. Don’t tell him.)
Because so much has been messed up and unstuck during the first half of this god-awful year, I just discovered the other day that Dean Allen, the creator of Textpattern, which powers this site, and of TextDrive, which used to host this site until Joyent destroyed it, and of «Textism» and Textile and Cardigan Industries and tamer of the epically wonderful Weimaraners «Oliver and Hugo» … well, he died back in January. I had no idea. There has been death aplenty around here since January and his slipped past me.
I’m glad that part of Dean lives on here in Textpattern (still running my websites with no let up since 2004) and the consciousness-raising I got from reading his stuff. I wish TextDrive was doing the same. WebFaction and NameCheap (what names!) have been adequate substitutions, but hardly anywhere near the same thing. «Many people» wrote «many wonderful things» about Dean’s influence and I can’t beat «them», so here’s the first part of his obit in the Vancouver Globe and Mail:
“It is with unspeakable sorrow that we announce the sudden passing of Dean Cameron Allen, on January 13, 2018 at the age of 51. “He leaves behind his parents, James and Holly; his brother, Craig; an adoring family; longtime partner, Gail; and a legion of loving friends and admirers around the world. “Renaissance man, trailblazer and autodidact extraordinaire, Dean was a person of dazzling wit, charm and erudition. “Graphic designer, typographer, teacher, web pilgrim, critic, author, Weimaraner tamer, song and dance man, chef… he brought titanic intelligence, insight and humour to everything he did. “And whatever room he was in, he was the weather. “He was instrumental in bringing clean, elegant design and typographical rigour to the early internet. And in raising online writing to a fresh and thrilling new art form. “A source of inspiration to many, he was generous with his guidance and praise. …” — Vancouver Globe and Mail, 6-Feb-18
God speed Dean … and thanks for all the … empowerment you gave us.
Portrait: His Imperial Majesty The Roux throws the Royal Snit Fit, leading His Court in vocal protests against All This Infernal Packing.
Again, sorry for poor video quality. You takes ‘em as you gets ‘em.)
Goose loves when the sun goes down, because it makes great reflections off the phone, which is his MOST. FAVORITIST. Thing. IN. THE. WORLD!!!!! to chase. Tails are for pikers. He gets very excited, which in turn Wholly Displeases His Imperial Majesty The Roux, who is then bothered and obliged to Issue Verbal Correction to the Wayward Prince. They’re both quite mad, really.