March 15, 1998 - February 18, 2012
Of the three surviving pups in the litter, she was the smallest one. The Mailman and I had committed ourselves to the other two...and I just couldn't bear the thought that this last little one would never see her family again. And so we scooped her up and tied a pink ribbon around her neck. I had a plan.
You see, my Father-In-Law had lost his dog the year before...and I thought it was time. When we walked into his house, he was seated in his chair...reading his paper. I carried her over to him and placed her in his lap. She immediately wriggled herself into the space between his left leg and the arm of his recliner...and rested her head on his knee. "You're mean," he said to me. I just smiled. He could say whatever he wanted...but I know a melting heart when I see one.
And so she became a part of our family. Whenever TM and I went over to the Log House...she greeted us joyfully with barks and wiggles and sometimes a little pee on the floor.
And she loved to "do things." It didn't matter what it was...she was up for it. Most of all she loved to be with her brother and sister.
Patrolling the neighborhood...
...hitting the open road...
...enjoying a snack along the way.
I know nothing lasts forever. And, in the last few weeks...as we watched the light go out of her eyes...I knew this day was coming. Today, TM is downstairs in his workshop...making a little box for her. We'll wrap her up in her little afghan and put her in the place we've prepared for her in the back garden. She spent so many happy hours there...playing under the trees. There are two spaces beside her...for her brother and her sister...when that time comes. I promised her they would always be together.
One thing I don't understand: How does such a tiny thing leave such a big hole in your heart?
Goodbye, my little Sammy-Sam. Your Aunt Kathy loves you...and she always will.
