The guy with the camera occasionally got his picture taken. This is a shot that Kenzie took of our little in-house love affair between the guy with the camera and his dog. It's been a while now since I lost ole Missy Marie and I wish I could say the pain has lessened. Unfortunately every time I see someone with their dog a little tug yanks at my heart. Its an old story: daughter says she wants dog, Dad says no, daughter gets dog anyway and dog and Dad fall madly in love. She was the family dog but I must admit she had a thing for me, as you can tell in the picture.
She really was an amazing pooch. never had a single class of obedience training and yet we could walk around our block in G-Burg without a leash and she would stay on the sidewalk. With a jaunty kind-of-sideways gait she may get a little too far ahead of me, then I'd just say her name and she would stop until I said it was OK. If we walked across the street to see the Harrison's she would stay at the corner until I went across and wouldn't budge till I called for her. Like I said amazing dog.
She hasn't been replaced for a few reasons: the current Mrs. Blythe doesn't especially like them, I've been reduced to apartment dwelling, and I spend time away from Kitschland. Besides, a dog that good is hard to replace. I could find a single place to settle, preferably a home instead of an apartment, work around the two-state living situation and replace the current Mrs. Blythe which would probably take care of the problems not having a dog. fact is, I don't know if I'll ever be a dog owner again. I have a bowl, brush and leash all boxed up ready if it happens, but every day that goes by makes it that much tougher. I'm reminded of the Bette Davis line in Now Voyager, "...let's not ask for the moon. We've had the stars."
Regardless, it's been 8 years this week since Missy died. I am thrilled to have found the picture far above which was taken by Kenzie and re-found recently. Sometimes I forget how much she loved me when I focused my love for her. She was my shadow for a long time and I hope I provided her with the same amount of warmth she gave all of us. The words below were written 4 years ago on the same date.
Today marks the 4th anniversary of Missy's passing. Four years ago Brendan and I put her in the truck for her final trip to a vet in Aledo. He was home on leave, and I was and still am grateful for his help that day. I probably waited too long. Next time I'll know better. I knew the inevitable for awhile. She had had surgery to remove a growth on her tummy, but it was not successful. When it reappeared her regular vet said that she probably wouldn't make it. These things happen, of course.
The above picture is her on a couple levels. First she always honed in on my truck whenever I arrived, and I'm sure when I left as well. I can see her still at the window shaking (well, her tail was shaking and the rest of her followed). Secondly, her hearing was about shot by now and I had somehow left the truck and entered the house without her noticing. Here she is watching the truck and anticipating my arrival, but I was right behind her and took a picture.
She was a heck of a dog. Never needed obedience training. And I miss her still. I make forages out often to local pounds in hopes that, finally, my next best friend will find me, but so far, I am still alone. This is the 4th anniversary of Missy's death. In a way, I died a little, too.
The past couple of Flashbacks have been on the darker side. I'll see what I can do cheer things up next week.
We have dogs knowing that the story will end in heartbreak. The truth is one of us will pass before the other. Those who claim dogs don't have emotions are most likely cat owners. Lily, Rose and I will part someday. Those who remain will know heartbreak. We choose to be together anyway. Do I still miss Candy Mae? Every day. Great dog. A privilege to be one of her people.
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