Addie

My goal in life is to be as good of a person my dog already thinks I am.  ~Unknown

Self-pity. Loss. How to cope when the heart feels like it's been gouged out? Tearful remembrances, memories, click through my brain like a slideshow.  For a woman in my 30's I have truly been lucky to have loved and not known much loss.  But when it looms like the shadow of an eclipse, I feel overwhelmed and find the tears just don't stop.  I have been fortunate to learn that to love, and be loved in return is a great gift.

Two golden brown eyes and a heart of gold met mine.  I can't say it was love at first sight, more a sense of a kindred spirit...a bond of understanding.  I was barely 20 years old, and determined to get a forever love.  But it wasn't diamonds I was searching for....I wanted a dog.  My old girl at the time "Do" (nicknamed so because she didn't DO anything) was in her teens, and though I had picked her out and brought her home in my pre-teens, she had adopted my mom.  I wanted a friend to run with.  A big dog...because they always seem to be in need of homes.

So I found myself at the Orlando SPCA, making the circuit of kennels, wondering how I could choose just ONE when so many needed homes.  At first I walked right by her kennel, because there was a little yappy dog that was non-stop motion and sound.  On my way back through, I paused and wondered about this little yapper (did it EVER sit still??) when I looked underneath of the commotion.  There she was...laying down, seemingly wondering the same as I about her roommate.  Per my request, she was brought into the visiting area.

She was shy, terribly so.  But heart recognized heart, and I fell in love with her giant shepherd ears.  The breed, as a puppy, is comically disproportionate with giant paws and ears to match.  At 6 months of age, this golden beauty had fairly dainty paws but she was Yoda-esque in regard to her ears.  I finished my allotted time, and drove home - alone - (sigh) to ask my parents again if I could adopt.  I went back twice more to see her, because the adoption process took longer than I hoped.  I signed everything, but was informed that she was required to undergo her spay operation before I brought her home. 

When the big day arrived, I had purchased a new leash and collar set, matching bowls and the assorted goodies she might need or want.  She was unsteady coming out to the car, and then outright refused to get into the back seat - to my horror she attempted to jump out (not conducive to fresh incisions).  She was nearly half my size at fifty pounds, but I hefted her into the front seat and buckled her in.  The family laughed at her ears when she arrived home, and I finally wondered to my mom if she would ever grow into them.  She did.  (At least to mommy).

Nearly 13 years ago she joined my family as a young pup with an air of grace, a zest for pulling my future husband on his roller blades simply because nobody could run that fast, and was a true connoisseur of cheese: she knew Kraft vs generic, and had a penchant for brie.  Loyal and loving, she seemed to smile with contentment and licked the glass doors as she wagged her tail to see her family.  Even after destroying weather stripping, drywall, trim, doorknobs, light switches and repeat attempts at concrete block.  I swear she had titanium teeth and jaws like a bear trap.

She had a definite separation anxiety, and was an everyday risk for my mom if she stopped abruptly.  She'd end up with a snout in odd and uncomfortable places at times, but never once have I heard a complaint from either lady.  Our family has been blessed by one of the most unconditional loves that can be shared.  The self-appointed matriarch of our little Florida clan has been the model of grace, and has watched over our growing family for 13 wonderful years.  You are loved, my Addie German Shepherd Girl.  And you will be missed.