Posted: Friday, May 29th, 2009 at 5:03 pm. Permalink
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  1. themoosh reblogged this from tj
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We — I — finally took her dog bed out of the closet the other day. Sophie (aka Young Dumb Beagle) never sleeps in it anyway, and Sadie… well, she ain’t comin’ back. I miss her more than I can say. And if that seems laughable or weird or overblown, fuck you. She lived with us for 10 years. Ten years. That’s longer than a lot of marriages. I was still in graduate school when we adopted her. We had been married less than 3 years. She moved with us from New Jersey to Florida to Ohio. She was stubborn and pushy and affectionate only when she wanted to be. She had been bred and dumped by some fuckwad who probably saw her as a way to make money off her puppies. I hope he died slowly and alone. When we got her she was in a small crate, having flown from Texas to Philadelphia (long story). She was so skinny you could see her ribs (we fixed that). She had the loudest bay you’ll ever hear, and she wasn’t afraid to let it loose. When we lived in Florida, for the longest time she would race around the house every night at 7:30—running from one end of the house, down the hall, into the living room, into the dining room, around the dining room table, and back again. Why? Who the fuck knows? Because she wanted to. For the past several years she had a hernia. Vet said she was too old to risk operating on her for it. She never seemed to notice. She was blind but when out to “hunt” in the yard and the woods around our house, baying her fool head off as loudly as possible. When she was done, and not a moment sooner, she sniffed her way home, and eventually figured out that if she climbed the stairs to the deck she could jump through the boards and come in through the doggie door, rather than wait for us to notice she was waiting to come in. Blind. She could find a piece of food 3 rooms away. She’d start sniffing and we’d try to tell her there was nothing there, but when we eventually moved whatever piece of furniture she was trying to get under (chair, couch, the refrigerator), there would always be something there. She was a better and nicer being than a lot of people I’ve met, and I’d throw most any of you in front of a bus for the chance to have a few more days with her happy and healthy.

We — I — finally took her dog bed out of the closet the other day.

Sophie (aka Young Dumb Beagle) never sleeps in it anyway, and Sadie… well, she ain’t comin’ back.

I miss her more than I can say. And if that seems laughable or weird or overblown, fuck you. She lived with us for 10 years. Ten years. That’s longer than a lot of marriages. I was still in graduate school when we adopted her. We had been married less than 3 years. She moved with us from New Jersey to Florida to Ohio.

She was stubborn and pushy and affectionate only when she wanted to be. She had been bred and dumped by some fuckwad who probably saw her as a way to make money off her puppies. I hope he died slowly and alone.

When we got her she was in a small crate, having flown from Texas to Philadelphia (long story). She was so skinny you could see her ribs (we fixed that).

She had the loudest bay you’ll ever hear, and she wasn’t afraid to let it loose.

When we lived in Florida, for the longest time she would race around the house every night at 7:30—running from one end of the house, down the hall, into the living room, into the dining room, around the dining room table, and back again.

Why? Who the fuck knows? Because she wanted to.

For the past several years she had a hernia. Vet said she was too old to risk operating on her for it. She never seemed to notice.

She was blind but when out to “hunt” in the yard and the woods around our house, baying her fool head off as loudly as possible.

When she was done, and not a moment sooner, she sniffed her way home, and eventually figured out that if she climbed the stairs to the deck she could jump through the boards and come in through the doggie door, rather than wait for us to notice she was waiting to come in.

Blind.

She could find a piece of food 3 rooms away. She’d start sniffing and we’d try to tell her there was nothing there, but when we eventually moved whatever piece of furniture she was trying to get under (chair, couch, the refrigerator), there would always be something there.

She was a better and nicer being than a lot of people I’ve met, and I’d throw most any of you in front of a bus for the chance to have a few more days with her happy and healthy.