Clementine, aka Hooligan’s Roving Free ‘N’ Fair, was supposed to have been Callie come back, or so Callie had told my communicator friend, but Clemmy definitely WASN’T cousin Callie – she was Grandma Fi come back instead. Clemmy had the naughtiness of little Fi as well as the beauty, confidence, ability and presence of grown-up lady Fiona.

Clementine and brother Rover were whelped at Colleen McDaniels’ – two BIG puppies. Colleen had wanted a dog and I had wanted a bitch. Rover was always the good puppy and Clemmy was always the pain in the butt, not unlike her mother Mabel had been as a youngster. Via my communicator friend, the week-old not so little bitch puppy was given a choice of four names, and unequivocally chose “Clementine,” meaning “merciful” – hmmm... As I understand things, while at Colleen’s, Clemmy made life miserable for Colleen’s trainers, not unlike a difficult child constantly saying, “No!” In spite of her petulance, Clementine was beautiful – a lovely combination of Mother Mabel (Ch. Hooligan’s Fair Hibernia, CD, SH, WCX, RN) and Poppa Woody (GB Sh Ch /Fin/Sw/Dk/Norw/-Am Ch Fynder Freethinker). This was Woodys first successful US litter. Somehow she seemed to know where and to whom she belonged, as when I came to bring her home, she transformed into the perfect puppy, albeit typically naughty, but the petulance went away. She knew that she was meant to be mine.

Clementine’s tenure here was far too brief. She stayed long enough to go beyond being just a silly puppy and carved out a place in my heart. She stayed long enough for me to fall in love with her and to have a peek at who she could become. Long enough to see her beauty, talent, humor and potential. Long enough for me to rail at the unfairness of her passing. She danced in and danced out of this life.

Clementine ultimately died of pneumonia. She recovered from one round of canine influenza, successfully fighting it off with help from a battery of allopathic and holistic modalities and practitioners. When she relapsed three weeks later, she just didn’t have the strength or heart to continue. She succumbed early on a Monday morning after an awful weekend and more awful night. Like her grandmother before her, she died on Erev Rosh Hashanah – the eve of the Jewish New Year – a time when Jews are asked to contemplate the waning year. According to the Jewish lunar calendar, Clemmy died one year to the day after Grandma Fi.

My communicator friend confirmed that Clemmy had indeed been Fi. She’d chosen to come back because I’d missed her so deeply. To return like that was ultimately more torment than relief, but it allowed me to let go of my longing for Fi. Over time, I’ve come to realize that Clemmy came to give me the part of Fi’s life that I had never known – Fi’s early puppyhood. She came to complete the Book of Life’s missing chapter. As I’ve grown to understand that, it’s made her death easier to accept. Certain things are meant to be, but as the Bible says, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.”

Brother Rover, Am Ch Whistle stop's Irish Rover, CD, RN lived happily as a dear companion until he passed on 4/20/15.