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Description
I find it easier
To define a dog
By generation and not gene
If I take us back
One hundred times my age
You'll see the same scene

A Roman grave sheds tears
Commissioned in grief
For kisses dried by death
A friend was left
Alone in ash
Of Vulcan's belching breath

Go back another
Three hundred thousand nights
A king came home to Ithaca
Though he hid in rags
He was recognized
By his hound stalling Hades’s call

What then makes Canis lupus
Look to us familiar?
When did feral turn to friend?
In one thousand times
One thousand years
Where is the wolf line's end?

It's not in blood
It was buried deep
At Bonn-Oberkassel
One thousand by ten
And times four again
A tyke’s tomb was made so little

One man and his love
And a wolf in the middle
A pup so small in the snow
Its humors distemptered
The wolf should've died
But its owners said no

When nothing could be done
The wolf they decided
Would be different than days before
It was loved in their minds
It had a heart like a mankind
And so a grave was in store

Their gods are lost to time
Their beliefs forgotten too
But I know one thing right now
They wanted one thing
Their wolf, their dog, their friend
When the dark called them down

So all I can ask
When it's my turn to go
Is that you be their hostess
You've been nothing but kind
So I ask that you keep them
O corpse maiden goddess

Sally makes friends easy
Samantha digs digging
And Sadie loves winter best
You'll find no hounds nobler
In all the Nine Realms
Even Garmr can attest

Give them a good home
Tell them I said thank you
They saved my life so many days
They will be honored guests
In the ancestral hall
Til it's my turn to go to the grave

My heart is in pieces
My pack is now just me
I'll be alone until then
I'll go on like before
It's too hard to say goodbye
Let alone until we meet again.

Alright that's enough Ljóðaháttr. I'm fairly confident I didn't even do it right. I'm a little too tone deaf to be a skald, and writing this is just a source of pain in itself anyway.

By now, it's probably obvious why I've been so… askew lately. My dog Sadie got put down on Saturday, the last of the three I grew up with. I don't even have any fancy words to describe the grief this time. I'm tired, I miss them, and I'm begging with every fiber of my being that there's something after this so that I can see them again, that I don't have to feel guilty for not taking enough pictures. Goddess, Loki's Daughter, Wolf-Sister, of all the gods, you have answered me every single time I've prayed in your name. Be it jests or tears, or anything in between, you've always been there, promising your companionship. So please, if I had to forgo all other prayers, the one I'd beg to be kept is that you give my girls the afterlife they deserve, to relieve them of any pain they suffered through here in Midgard, and keep them company until I come to collect them. I don't ask for or expect a lot in my existence. I don't expect a glorious hall or any riches to my name or even an eternal afterlife period, but those dogs are my heart, and I just want to travel the Realms with them until our feet quit on us or Ragnarök snuffs us out. And, if I may be so bold to ask, please let them know I'm coming some day, ask them to watch over me as I face the challenges ahead still staring down at me like an eldritch beast, and tell them I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to say goodbye. I'm sorry I kept them waiting. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I promise girls, the next time you see mommy, she'll be there to stay.

So yeah, I apologize if I act like I'm on another planet. I'm in a lot of pain, emotionally and physically. There's three fluffy holes in my heart and sometimes it's difficult to get out of bed, let alone go to work for 8 hours and then come home and stare at my drawing desk as if I know what I'm doing. All I ask is please be patient with me if I end up needing a couple weeks to put anything on paper. I'm sure I'll get something out just by coasting anyway. Don't worry, I'm not going to run away again or anything like that. I just need to grieve and deal with some bullshit before I can return to whatever “normality” is supposed to be now and write up stuff that's actually funny and well-researched. That's about the long and short of it, so to get to the point…

This piece is dedicated to Samantha Spainhower, who filled the parting glass on April 11, 2017, Sally Spainhower, who I've been wishing was here since August 30, 2019, and Sadie Spainhower, who waited for me the longest until March 16, 2024. I miss you all more than anything. Thank you so much for everything you did. I love you. Be good girls. Until we meet again.

Description
I find it easier
To define a dog
By generation and not gene
If I take us back
One hundred times my age
You'll see the same scene

A Roman grave sheds tears
Commissioned in grief
For kisses dried by death
A friend was left
Alone in ash
Of Vulcan's belching breath

Go back another
Three hundred thousand nights
A king came home to Ithaca
Though he hid in rags
He was recognized
By his hound stalling Hades’s call

What then makes Canis lupus
Look to us familiar?
When did feral turn to friend?
In one thousand times
One thousand years
Where is the wolf line's end?

It's not in blood
It was buried deep
At Bonn-Oberkassel
One thousand by ten
And times four again
A tyke’s tomb was made so little

One man and his love
And a wolf in the middle
A pup so small in the snow
Its humors distemptered
The wolf should've died
But its owners said no

When nothing could be done
The wolf they decided
Would be different than days before
It was loved in their minds
It had a heart like a mankind
And so a grave was in store

Their gods are lost to time
Their beliefs forgotten too
But I know one thing right now
They wanted one thing
Their wolf, their dog, their friend
When the dark called them down

So all I can ask
When it's my turn to go
Is that you be their hostess
You've been nothing but kind
So I ask that you keep them
O corpse maiden goddess

Sally makes friends easy
Samantha digs digging
And Sadie loves winter best
You'll find no hounds nobler
In all the Nine Realms
Even Garmr can attest

Give them a good home
Tell them I said thank you
They saved my life so many days
They will be honored guests
In the ancestral hall
Til it's my turn to go to the grave

My heart is in pieces
My pack is now just me
I'll be alone until then
I'll go on like before
It's too hard to say goodbye
Let alone until we meet again.

Alright that's enough Ljóðaháttr. I'm fairly confident I didn't even do it right. I'm a little too tone deaf to be a skald, and writing this is just a source of pain in itself anyway.

By now, it's probably obvious why I've been so… askew lately. My dog Sadie got put down on Saturday, the last of the three I grew up with. I don't even have any fancy words to describe the grief this time. I'm tired, I miss them, and I'm begging with every fiber of my being that there's something after this so that I can see them again, that I don't have to feel guilty for not taking enough pictures. Goddess, Loki's Daughter, Wolf-Sister, of all the gods, you have answered me every single time I've prayed in your name. Be it jests or tears, or anything in between, you've always been there, promising your companionship. So please, if I had to forgo all other prayers, the one I'd beg to be kept is that you give my girls the afterlife they deserve, to relieve them of any pain they suffered through here in Midgard, and keep them company until I come to collect them. I don't ask for or expect a lot in my existence. I don't expect a glorious hall or any riches to my name or even an eternal afterlife period, but those dogs are my heart, and I just want to travel the Realms with them until our feet quit on us or Ragnarök snuffs us out. And, if I may be so bold to ask, please let them know I'm coming some day, ask them to watch over me as I face the challenges ahead still staring down at me like an eldritch beast, and tell them I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to say goodbye. I'm sorry I kept them waiting. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I promise girls, the next time you see mommy, she'll be there to stay.

So yeah, I apologize if I act like I'm on another planet. I'm in a lot of pain, emotionally and physically. There's three fluffy holes in my heart and sometimes it's difficult to get out of bed, let alone go to work for 8 hours and then come home and stare at my drawing desk as if I know what I'm doing. All I ask is please be patient with me if I end up needing a couple weeks to put anything on paper. I'm sure I'll get something out just by coasting anyway. Don't worry, I'm not going to run away again or anything like that. I just need to grieve and deal with some bullshit before I can return to whatever “normality” is supposed to be now and write up stuff that's actually funny and well-researched. That's about the long and short of it, so to get to the point…

This piece is dedicated to Samantha Spainhower, who filled the parting glass on April 11, 2017, Sally Spainhower, who I've been wishing was here since August 30, 2019, and Sadie Spainhower, who waited for me the longest until March 16, 2024. I miss you all more than anything. Thank you so much for everything you did. I love you. Be good girls. Until we meet again.