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” The Dog