barking up the willow tree

It has been a sad tale indeed. Our Blue Beast, our fuzzy, mouthy, floppy-eared, bug-eating beauty died suddenly of a heart attack nearly two weeks ago. She was almost 2 years old; our baby.

She has been the subject of a many blog here. She had a penchant for consuming our favorite things and throwing them back up, usually on my feet. She loved that, puking on my toes. She was a hit at the puppy-park too. She rarely failed to take someone out. Not intentionally of course; the laws of inertia being what they are, exacerbated by k-nine excitement, meant that she was a gray wrecking ball. It wasn’t long until others in the park could be heard muttering to themselves, “remember, keep the knees soft, soft knees…stay alert…here she comes!” and we would all cluster together to brace ourselves for impact. That was great too.

But perhaps the best moments were shared between the three of us: the Blue Beast, the 9fg and yours truly in the little yellow house on the corner. She elicited a full spectrum of emotion that usually ended in laughter. Like the time she peed on the guest bed (to those that have stayed at our house, we flipped the mattress), or the way she would race down the steps as if she were qualifying for the NASCAR 500, or the way she would grumble when we interrupted her nap/poop/drink or accidentally sat in her spot on the couch or how she’d be eating dinner and someone would knock and she’d bark, spewing kibble everywhere. The illustrations are endless.

Though her death brought pain, it brought unity. Friends surrounded us in person, meals, flowers, cards and empathy/sympathy. Our gratitude is inarticulate.

Through all the tears and snot we emerge saddened by the knowledge that there will never be another like her. The same thought brings be comfort because she was in our lives.