A Dalmatian's Last Will and Testament
The American playwright Eugene O'Neill and his wife Carlotta owned a
Dalmatian when they lived in Paris in the 1930's. The dog, whose full name
was Silverdene Emblem O'Neill, had a love affair with a French dog, "Mlle.
Rosa Brown," but soon had to cross the Atlantic with his owners. This
Dalmatian, nicknamed "Blemie," died on December 17, l940, a terrible
day for the O'Neills. Blemie is buried under a headstone that reads "Sleep
in peace, faithful friend."
O'Neill wrote "The Last Will and Testament of Silverdene Emblem O'Neill" on December 26, l940, in an effort to assuage the grief of his wife Carlotta. Here follow the first two and last paragraphs of the document:
"I, Silverdene Emblem O'Neill (familiarly known to family, friends, and acquaintances as Blemie), because the burden of my years and infirmities is heavy upon me, and I realize the end of my life is near, do hereby bury my last will and testament in the mind of my Master. He will not know it is there until after I am dead. Then, remembering me in his loneliness, he will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask him then to inscribe it as a memorial to me.
"I have little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are wiser than men. They do not set great store upon things. They do not waste their days hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about how to keep the objects they have, and to obtain the objects they have not. There is nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my faith. These I leave to all those who have loved me, to my Master and Mistress, who I know will mourn me most, to Freeman who has been so good to me, to Cyn and Roy and Willie and Naomi and--But if I should list all those who have loved me it would force my master to write a book. Perhaps it is vain of me to boast when I am so near death, which returns all beasts and vanities to dust, but I have always been an extremely lovable dog....
"One last word of farewell, dear Master and Mistress. Whenever you visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my long happy life with you: 'Here lies one who loved us and whom we loved.' No matter how deep my sleep I shall hear you, and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail."
(From T. Bogard, ed., The Unknown
O'Neill: Unpublished or Unfamiliar Writings of Eugene O'Neill)
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