Losing a long-time friend and piecing it together from a listing and a probate record is its own kind of hard.
Nathan and I joined this site about a month apart back in 2008, and we were friends for all the years since. I learned a great deal from him. Over time we shared a lot of personal stories, traded emails, and talked on the phone now and then, and we always came back to the love we had in common: animals, and dogs most of all.
When I stopped hearing from him, I started to worry. Nathan lived alone, he had no close family nearby, and he and I were the same age. As six months went by with no word, I called and left messages. I emailed. Nothing. That wasn't like him at all, and I knew in my heart something was wrong.
So I went looking. I searched the address of his dog training place and found it had been listed for sale on Zillow. That alone didn't mean much, since people sell their homes all the time. Except for one thing: I hardly recognized the house and surroundings. It had been fixed up to look brand new, and every one of the pens and dog houses he'd built his work around was gone. Totally unlike the Nathan who had told me dozens of times that he'd never leave there because his most beloved dog, Cheyenne, was buried in the back yard, her grave marked with a headstone. If you've ever loved an animal that seemed like a family member, you will understand why he felt that way. I understood that feeling well.
I think I knew then. Not long after, I found the probate filing and a short death notice from his daughter. No obituary. Just the plain facts, as if his whole life could fit in a few lines.
It can't, of course. Not his. Nathan was generous with what he knew, and he loved animals the way the best people do. Rest in peace, sweet Nathan. I'll miss our conversations, and all the animal stories we shared over the years.
MJ
