A Dog-Shaped Hole

Tricksy 

She was the best of dogs. Sure, she ate a wall once. Oh, and there was the time the First Reader was convinced she'd die after chewing through an industrial power cord. And that time (more than once!) where she went after a groundhog and came prancing back, tail high, with her victim in her jaws. 

But she was intensely loyal to her chosen human, while still allowing him to expand his family to the rest of us. She loved me, and the kids, too. She just loved him more. 

He said, this morning, as he asked her to get up and come on the final car ride, that we don't deserve to be looked at like gods by dogs. They are too good for us. 

They really are. They give us humbling lessons in unconditional love and devotion. They have faith that we will take care of them. 

In her final days, she kept looking at me, with that clear plea in her eyes of 'I'm hurting, please take it away.' She really thought we could make it all better, just like when it was raining and she'd look up, asking plain as day for us to open the other door, the one that leads into summer forever. 

We didn't want to, but it was time. 

And now, there's another dog-shaped hole in my heart. Along ones named Murphy, Happy Jack, and Beowulf. 

They never really leave us, do they? 

Tricksy Upside-Down

The Little Man and Tricksy

And a picture of our happy black dog, who loves us no matter what.