Remembering “our” dog
Daven Savoie: “You changed the world”
I haven’t had the chance to meet Whisky, or talk to the family during these days much, but I will be “virtually” going to the service and participate in the State mourning declared for remembering him. I felt like writing an obituary for remembering our leader, our spiritual guide, “our dog”, Whisky I, so I asked Alexander for some info about him. We kept it a secret, until now. I just hope he will like it, and you too.
Whisky was born on December 11, 1994 and passed away quietly, on his own terms, on March 23, 2010. He was a normal dog: always ready to dirty himself with mud and leaves, active and friendly with everyone. Like people, some dogs have a presence that cannot be explained and Whisky had that “X factor”. Everyone always remembered him. It’s not that he did special tricks or anything uniquely special, but people have always gravitated to him. Even when the Ruvolos settled in what today is District, Whisky was the first one that became used to that big garden and house. He was like a white Indiana Jones: careless about danger, with Scottish blood running through his veins.
Whisky also remembered people really well. He used to be very affectioned to this cleaning lady that knew him since he came to Italy, and who left after they moved to District. She used to take care of him when his mistress was away, and saw him growing up. Whenever Whisky saw her, he would just go nuts! He would want to snuggle up close and put his lap on her, like he was forever grateful. He was always grateful to people that did something significant to him: he liked people that meant something.
When the Revolution started, he became a “mascot”, a symbol of purity and democracy. When he became President, no one expected him to suddenly learn how to sign documents, and the decision to keep him in office was questioned for a long time, but the people of St.Charlie decided to keep him as their President: with the political situation in Italy, Whisky was a President that really represented all of his citizens, and that looked good on banknotes. He was a respected figure, a beloved character and trusted friend. When a few days ago, the news of his death arrived, we all felt an empty gap in our bodies, as if a part of us suddenly left. Yet, a lot of us didn’t know him in person, but we all recognized his charm and presence. No micronation ever had a dog for President: he made us special, unique, protected.
Keep him in your thoughts and prayers as he goes through the gates of Heaven. Goodbye Whisky, and thanks for everything.