I Miss The Dog

Isla and Doc relaxing Best Friend, Indeed

Sometimes, you will always remember and you never stop missing. Like opening the back door to the kitchen, expecting to hear a loud bark and the sound of paws searching for traction on hard wood floors while toe nails, that are long over due for clipping, make another etch into the finished wood. “Welcome Home! It’s so good to see you!” is what those big brown eyes and wagging tail communicated every time I walked into the house

I miss that.

How quick to forget, however, the many evenings of nearly tripping over the dog while trying to cook dinner or sweeping up “tumble-weed” hair balls that collected in the corners of rooms or trying to avoid the dog from brushing up against me whenever I wore something black.

I miss that, too.

There was the yard to scoop clean from poo, the inspection of the soles of kid shoes for any signs of dog poo before walking through the house, and on those rainy days, cleaning four muddy paws before leaving the mudroom. (A mudroom is very nice when there are muddy paws or shoes with poo on the soles.)

I don’t miss that quite as much but I miss the sound of kids playing outside with the dog.

I remember those long walks and jogging through the neighborhood with the dog, holding the leash relaxed by my side…finding my stride and comfortable pace when suddenly I’m halted with a sudden jerk and arm whiplash because the dog had to stop and smell the roses. I always carried a bottle of water on those long walks. Not so much for me, but for the dog to have a drink.

I miss that.

The dog had no manners, though. He would pant his hot smelly breath on everyone he met or let loose a “silent but violent” odor in a room full of house guests. I think sometimes, one of my kids ripped their own and blamed it on…”the dog did it!”

I miss the dog and all of that smelly stuff.

There is no longer a need to fill a water bowl or hunt for an old tennis ball to play catch. There dangling from a hook in the garage is that old black leash that kept the dog close to our side, but was that leash really needed?

Perhaps the dog trained us to stay by his side and taught us how to be patient dealing with each others mess and to never take for granted when a family member comes home.

Good ole’ Doc! I miss that dog!

Doc

“Doc” The Dog

6 thoughts on “I Miss The Dog

  1. I remember when you first got “The Dog.” We stopped by for a short visit while we were in the area and he was crazy like a little 2 y.o.toddler running around . “He’s for the kids,” you said. I knew how that would play out. You were the keeper, cleaner, trainer. It appears like he was so well loved and part of the family and completely stole your heart. Thanks for sharing. Robin

    • Hi Robin, How well I remember! And I also recall those obnoxious and irritating times, such as when the dog completely destroyed every cushion and pillow (Pottery Barn perfect) on sunroom wicker furniture. Evidently, the dog didn’t appreciate being confined all day while I was at work.

  2. No, you never forget a good friend. I have never forgotten my first dog that I lost the week I graduated from high school. Always waiting for me to come home and go on an adventure in the back woods of my parents home. Still best of friends through memories from 30 plus years ago. Never forget them, always remember they’re special qualities. Thank you for helping me remember my “Smoky” and together we can realize that we’ve both have been blessed, Michael 🙂

    • Hi Michael, Thanks for your comment and sharing in the memories. By the way, I am a fan of your blog and the beautiful photographs! Excellent!
      Donna

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