Death has been our family’s companion this year. We lost my father, Catherine’s sister-in-law, Baloo, Bagheera, Hannah’s pony Dawson (late addition) and now Zuzu. Zuzu died in Catherine’s arms Saturday night, and I strongly suspect the cause was a broken heart. I hope not to suffer a similar end, but the writing of this essay tempts fate.
Zuzu was eleven, an age for Labradors that is older, but not old. She simply hasn’t been the same since the death of her soulmate Baloo six months ago. I have noticed her decline in a thousand ways; hesitance, what appears to be sadness, occasional nervousness. She acquired a nagging skin condition. A few months ago, Catherine and I took her to the local dog park for an afternoon’s outing, and twenty seconds into bounding across the AstroTurf, she came up lame. A number of vet visits followed without definitizing the cause, although Saturday morning’s trip added some information as X-rays revealed deterioration in her spine. She was in great pain and could not keep anything down. She spent the day immobile, and as time went on, Catherine’s eerie prescience connected with something deep inside Zuzu, something I could not see. Heck. Only two nights earlier, we took her with us to Pet Smart where we let her pick out her own snack (a little pizza shaped cookie, which she will be cremated with). In the end, she was really struggling, and we determined to take her to Annapolis to the all night emergency vet. In the time it took me to walk back to my room to grab my wallet and shoes, she was gone.
Zuzu was the happiest, most friendly dog I have been around. A constant presence at Catherine’s knee at the dinner table, her cuteness and persistence often paid off in the form of some desired delicacy. She absolutely LOVED to ride in cars. Whereas Baloo was a mischievous pup (his consumption of an entire Christmas Stollen that animal poison control indicated contained a number of problematic ingredients applies) who heeded one’s calls in his own sweet time, Zuzu bounded to the sound of my voice immediately. Much of that calling occurred after having found her rolling about in some unspeakable deer filth, but the point is, she listened.
My heart is broken. Broken for my own sadness at losing such a wonderful dog. Sadness at Catherine’s sadness—someone who, were we living in a just world, would be relieved from the sting of death altogether—and the sadness of my two girls, thousands of miles away and laid low by the news, but still able to muster such love and compassion for their mother’s well-being after this loss.
We have very rapidly gone from a five pet house to a two pet house, with only two cats remaining, cats who do not get along with each other to the point where we keep them separated. Miss Moppet is about seven, and she enjoys the run of the house, though she mostly stays wherever Catherine is. Hazel is three, and she hangs out mostly in our bedroom.
The house I joined 17 years ago had two cats only, but there was always a sense that dogs were just around the corner. Then came Baloo and Zuzu. Now back to two cats, two different cats. I am not sure what the future holds. I removed a dog leash fixed to the couch foot in the kitchen this morning (a UVA leash—given to me by the great Stephanie Wilson, I believe!) to be put with the great mass of other dog stuff we were boxing up and wondered whether I’d see it again. I’m 59, not overweight (at least not very), in good health, but shortish. I could easily have another 30 years ahead of me, and it seems odd to think that they would be empty of canine companionship. But what fool, what utter fool, would set himself up willingly for this heartbreak again?
Likely, me.
Goodbye, Coach Bennett
The weekend gut punch began on Thursday when word broke that UVA Men’s Basketball Coach Tony Bennett would retire the next day, with immediate effect. No one figure has been more important to UVA sports, and that includes Ralph Sampson, and he will be missed.
You can find his announcement press conference on the interwebs. It was classic Tony Bennett. My bottom line take-away was that he came to the realization that his approach to coaching was not consistent with the brave new world of the transfer portal and Name, Image, and Likeness compensation. I think he is right, and while UVA managed to continue to be a quality program in the five seasons since Tony hung that Natty in the rafters, it seemed obvious that his style of play—which relied on crushing defense and ball control offense—was both too hard to learn for players unwilling to spend the time moving up through the system, and too limiting for players interested in individual achievement on the offensive end of the court. I think he recognized both the limitations his approach provided and that he had no desire to compromise his approach in order to adapt to the changed order of the game.
Most of my friends and I saw this coming, that he would retire soon before he became an utter anachronism. No one saw it coming this early. Once he reached his decision (apparently last week on a getaway with his bride), he figured that it would be unfair to his players for him to continue as their coach if his heart weren’t in it. I respect the decision, but I am troubled by the timing. One of UVA’s assistant coaches will take over as the “interim” coach, and presumably the program will conduct a national search. Our team is a mystery right now, with new faces everywhere you look. I’d love to see the new guy have a great season and earn the job, but a far more likely outcome is a solid year followed by hemorrhaging existing talent lured here by the aura of playing for a national championship winning coach. Whoever winds up being the coach starts out with a blank slate. Not great.
I will never forget the magic of 2019. I attended both the ACC tournament (we lost) and the first few rounds of the NCAA tournament (we won). The game against Purdue was the most exciting experience of my life, and that Championship was the best thing that ever happened to me that I had nothing to do with. I purposely did not attend the Final Four that year, because 1) I wanted to be home with Catherine in case we lost and I needed consolation and 2) I wanted to be home with Catherine if we won so that I could share my utter joy with her.
That we won the title the year after having lost in the first round to a #16 seed, the first #1 seed ever to do so, was sweet redemption.
But here’s a little-known fact. No real UVA Basketball fan will point at that loss to UMBC as the loss that broke their heart, because any real UVA Basketball fan’s heart had already been broken by losses in the round of 8 to Syracuse (2016, up by 15 with nine minutes left) and to Michigan State in the Sweet 16 (2014).
I hope Coach Bennett has a great life and I am grateful to him for all the joy he brought to my university and its proud alumni.
Very sorry for all of your losses
Condolences to you and the family Brother and tears were definitely shed over the weekend...