Our connection was special

Thinking about you, I remember an observation a co-worker made after seeing us at a softball game together. I brought you to a game and had to tie you up near our bench while I played. You would cry when I went away from you even briefly, and wanted nothing to do with anyone trying to comfort you – you  were only interested in where I was or what I was doing. I had to switch with someone to play first base just to stay close to you and talk to you, comfort you, and sit with you between innings. They said I was a totally different person when I was with you and I agree- you made me a better person.

You would cry when I left you in the car even for a moment. Crying bloody murder! I recall stopping for gas and having to go inside to pee and you were crying so loud…

It reminds me it was a trip camping to possum kingdom to meet Pat and Steve’s families. Your first long road trip, you were pretty young. First encounter with Priscilla and pats dogs – none of them liked you.

Even trying to setup the tent, you cried like crazy because you had to stay in the car or when I then chained you to the camp site, you cried when I went back to the car to get stuff – oh my, you were a bit of a baby sometimes.

I remember the walks we would all take around PK campground and you always had to be out front – the lead dog. When we hiked up a small mountain, you dogs were all so hot and thirsty, but being so much out of your element, you refused to drink the water we tried to pour out for you in various containers – but none were “your” water bowl.

I remember it was a long drive yet, you were so excited by it all you never sat for more than a few seconds – back up standing, walking around the back, looking out the windows.

On the Lake Whitney camping trip a few yrs ago we had our share of excitement when you, after whining non-stop in the boat to get out, jumped over the side as we were in a large rocky area! You leapt out the bow and under water so quick I couldn’t stop it. I dove halfway out of the boat after you, grabbed you by the fur, and told DC to grab my ass to keep me from falling in with you 😮 scared the crap out of me that day miss.

I remember we had stopped at a Corsicana park on the way there so you could wander around, take care of business and drink water. We found out after we got to the site, that we left your nice big water bowl there… we stopped on the way back to try to find it, but someone had snatched it by then…

The grief still rises

it happens when we let our guard down. When we are briefly happy. We feel the moment of happiness and naturally look to you to share it with you, enjoy it more with you. “Come on Soph’, share this happy thing that just occurred, this warm thought, this good feeling. Let’s enjoy life together for a moment.”…  And then the happiness vanishes as we realize you are not there. Not anymore.

It happened tonight. I was watching tv and had a thought. Popcorn sounds good, yeah I’m gonna make popcorn. It’s not too late, that sounds good. I get up, unusually energized. “Come on baby, let’s make some popcorn!”, I would have said if I didn’t catch myself mid-thought and immediately shut down.

Then the battle to hold back the feelings. Lest we show emotion for such an old wound. Surely it has healed by now.

snow without you sucks

So, today it has snowed here where we live in Texas, and it is a rare enough occurrence that, though it is usually a pretty big deal, without you to enjoy it with us, it is much less so.

You enjoyed snow so much, it made it fun for everyone. The cold and snow did not bother you. Though I had to bundle up considerably (I can easily picture your frustrated, impatient, and often barking by then, frisbee holding face waiting on me), you refused to even wear the jackets or sweaters I tried to put on you -sometimes I forced something on you anyway so neighbors would feel better about you being out on walks in that weather. (video below)


You jumped through the snow and ran as you could, until I held you back to keep you from falling on the ice. Your energy for things like this was always incredible. It was like you were experiencing it for the first time, every time. It made us appreciate it more seeing your joy for it. You’d run and play in the snow until you remembered the real reason for being out there and stopped to take care of business. The yellow snow joke would always arise as you relieved yourself and even the steamers often inspired a phone pic which was sent to cousin Steve to commemorate the event.


Eventually, your long-haired feet would accumulate so much snow between your toes, you had trouble walking and I would have to break it apart and remove what I could on the walk. Which meant removing my gloves and freezing my hands while you chewed at my arms for touching your feet.


When we finally arrived home, I would have to soak your feet in warm water to melt those snow-packed feet, clean the rest of the snow off you and wrestle/towel you dry. Then crazy Sophie would arrive, jumping, biting, attacking and playing throughout the house with your cold-inspired energy.

It’s just not the same without you baby, and I suppose it never will be.
Miss you, Soph












yup, yellow snow it is
yup, yellow snow it is