Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Bud, part 5 of 5 - autumn leaves

It was a beautiful fall day, the kind where you want to get out and rake some leaves. So I did. The big sycamores in the back yard had lost most of their leaves. As I got the rake from the shed, I could hear Bud moving along on the lower property. I knew he'd been wakened from his nap by the sound of my activity and was heading up the hill to join me.

I worked for a few minutes, creating a satisfying pile of crisp yellow and orange leaves. I'd gathered them about six feet behind a parked vehicle so they'd be sheltered from wind gusts.

Bud appeared. As I worked on the leaves, he snouted the rake curiously. I chided him and continued working. He stood still - usually a sign that he's getting ready to take an unexpected action. And he did. He snouted around in the pile of leaves. Then, suddenly, he grabbed a mouthful and raced off. He tore around the yard and back, leaped into the pile of leaves, whirled around, and tore off again.

Alarmed at his frenzy, I reraked the pile, moving them away from the vehicle lest he hurl himself into it and injure himself. He raced back, leaped into the pile again, and fell over into it, rolling and snorting.

Several rerakings later, Bud lost interest in the proceedings and wandered off. I called a family member to come and watch, but Bud refused to repeat his performance. Naturally.

For the next couple of days, I raked that pile of leaves periodically. Bud displayed no interest. BUT each time, I noticed that when I returned to the area an hour later, the leaves were scattered on the ground. There was no wind, so I knew Bud's secret. He did his leaf jumping when no one else was around.


Bud's ashes arrived yesterday in a teak box. On Saturday morning we'll have our remembrance time, scattering him in the places he loved: near his house under the deck, in the garden where he rooted for potatoes, along the path to the neighbors' where he munched on dandelions, and, finally, under the big cedars in the side yard.


9 comments:

Arkansas Patti said...

This has to have been a bitter sweet memory trip for you but I have really enjoyed getting to know Bud. What an adorable little character he was.
I am so sorry for your loss but happy for the time you got to enjoy him.

DJan said...

There is something really enchanting about a pile of leaves, to a dog, a kid, or a pig. I smiled when I thought of him enjoying himself in solitude...

Grandmother said...

Sweet stories and a worthy send off for your loyal companion. Good for you and farewell to Bud.

Out on the prairie said...

what a great ending, and a phenomenal pet to enjoy.James Thurber drew me into his stories about his pets.

Murr Brewster said...

Oh my, that pig. Did he have to have his face flossed? I love the idea of a clandestine pigphoria. Sorry for your loss.

Retired English Teacher said...

Pigs jumping in leaves, leaves flying everywhere, now that is a description of an event you don't read about everyday. You pet pig had a very endearing character.

#1Nana said...

I got back from our Thanksgiving travels last night and just read through your Bud series. This is a lovely way to honor his memory. I'm sorry for your loss.

Ms Sparrow said...

What charming memories your sweet Bud left you. How lucky that you got to have him in your life.

Jennifer said...

I love these stories. I'm so glad we were able to participate in his ceremony...