The Best Dog EVER

Off the top of my head I can think of four beloved felines who have departed our lives during the years I’ve kept this blog.  I love my cats…I really do.  If asked, I would call myself a cat person, never a DOG person. 

But we did love a dog.   A very special dog.  She shared her life with us for over thirteen years.  But I wanted her for more. 

Lucy was the child we never had, the “dog niece” to my sisters, “dog cousin” to my (human) niece and nephew, the “grand-dog” to my mom.  And, oh, how she loved Grandma!  She loved any Grandma, actually.  At Mom’s Assisted Living building, Lucy hit the jackpot of Grandmas.  She would walk down the halls and greet every old lady she met with her bent-in-half tail wag and excited “hoo-hooo-hooo” greeting.

The “hoo-hoo.”  She knew her family, and every member got the “hoo-hoo” greeting when they returned to “the pack” after being away.  If you got a “hoo-hoo”  from Lucy, you knew you belonged.

We were kind of “nazi” dog parents.  Lucy was not allowed on the furniture, never slept in our bed.  Didn’t, as a rule, get people food.  We didn’t feed her scraps from the table, and scolded our guests for trying to get away with breaking our dog rules. 

But she was always with us.  The back seat of any vehicle we drove belonged exclusively to the dog.  Asked to share with a human passenger, she would do so with great reluctance, evidenced by heavy sighing and passive aggressive stretching and nosing until the interloper was confined to the smallest possible share of the dog’s seat.  She was the RV dog, the campfire dog, the beach dog.  The “make sure the hotel/vacation rental/campground is dog friendly” dog.  She shared our lives as none of our feline children ever has, could or would.

She loved frisbees and tennis balls, nerf footballs and Mike Wazowski.  She loved playing soccer goalie at the top of the stairs.  She loved biting soap bubbles--the closer to the source (your face) the better.  She loved going for rides in the car.  She loved the dike, and the church yard down the block.  Did I mention she loved the beach?  She LOVED the beach.

And she loved us.  And we loved her.  We had a great life together, Lucy and her family, and her cats. 

And now she’s gone.  All quite suddenly.  But maybe not really.

And oh…how we miss her.