Scooby loved flowers. Sniffing them. Touching them. Being with them. He never rushed. Carefully and patiently getting to know each one, each bloom, front to back, side to side, all around.
Because as I learned from Scooby, one flower, one little tiny bloom, still has lots of different parts. And it’s important to say hello to each one of those parts.
He treated them all so delicately. It was as if for Scooby, every single one of them was sacred. Of course he was right.
He especially liked climbing inside busy blooming shrubs and becoming one with them. Maneuvering himself inside so deep that I could not easily get him out. And sometimes I could barely even see him; his version of Where’s Waldo?
It was as if the flowers and the leaves and the branches had been expecting him, with his special Scooby Spot ready and waiting.
Watching all those flowers and leaves and branches giggling and dancing this way and that as Scooby gently tunneled his way inside and finally found his place.
And then, at that moment in time, The Shrub and The Scoobs became one. He was now yet one more flower on the branch.
He loved it. And I know The Shrub did too.
The Scoobster especially loved the fragrant flowers and watching the bees dance with them. We’d sit in the yard for long stretches and talk about them, oftentimes picking a few flowers and bringing them inside for enjoyment.
We even kept a little vase next to his dining room bed and it always had flowers. His flowers. Because he loved them.
Walks through Portland’s rose and rhododendron gardens while in full bloom were extra special. Even while the honey bees were at their busiest, it was as if every single one of them knew Scooby and had to come over and buzz hello.
Literally, sometimes they created little mini-swarms all around him. They totally ignored me, but they just frenzied for him.
Scooby did not snap at them or chase them or even run away from them. They just took their moments, whenever it struck them, and Scooby and his Bees buzzed together.
Maybe in another life Scooby was really Scoobee? After all, you know that his ears looked a bit like wings. And he did like honey.
One time a bee got into the house and try as I might, I could not catch it. I found it the next morning in Scooby’s bed, pushed right up against him. Sleeping Scooby. Sleeping Bee. They woke up about the same time and we all went on our morning walk together. I bet they had stayed up late telling stories.
Knowing Scooby’s love of fleurs makes this photo even more meaningful. Because this past Sunday Pongo Lead Volunteer Darcie greeted me with this gorgeous orchid to help remember Scooby. Thank you Darcie, the orchid is perfect and I know Scooby loves it.
In Memory of 21 year-old Scooby Chusid: August 31, 1994 – February 14, 2016.
Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. thepongofund.org
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