Queen of Happybeach

This page is dedicated to our beautiful dog Eddie, who died on May 17th 2016 after eating poison carelessly left on the roadside.

She was the true Queen of Happybeach and knew every smell, every rock – and peed on most litter! She greeted every visitor and engaged with all the creatures, her favourite being lizards. She was gentle and loving and gave such joy.

She will be sadly missed by us all.

my little girl
Angel Eddie
going for a dip
In the pool
eddie in the sea
Or the sea
new coat
new coat for chilly days
Eddie and the chicks
Inspecting the chicks
queen of the beach
Queen of Happybeach
happy beach girls
Happybeach Girls
eddie on the beach
Looking after my stuff when I swim
eddie and oliver
With her other best friend
checking out the beach
Checking out the weather
in the garden
In the garden
best buddies
The girls
3 months old
Eddie 3 month’s old
Eddie's first beach clean
Eddie’s 1st beach clean – March 8th 2015
Eddie May 2016
RIP May 17th 2016

A Dog Has Died

– by Pablo Neruda, translated by Alfred Yankauer

My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I’ll join him right there,
but now he’s gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I’ll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he’d keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea’s movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean’s spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.

So now he’s gone and I buried him,
and that’s all there is to it.


4 thoughts on “Queen of Happybeach”

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