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| May 21, 2013 |
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Ignoring
Clint Eastwood's advice in "Dirty Harry" that
opinions, like certain body parts, are best kept to
yourself.
 Junior
was my Pomeranian, a great little dog devoted completely to
me, and I to him. I've forgotten his birthday, but Junior
was about 5 years old, born right in my bedroom one
afternoon, we didn't even know his mother was expecting.
One of 7 pups, Junior was the smallest, and the
last one when his brothers and sisters found new homes with
an ad in the local shopper newspaper. By then, I'd gotten
attached to the little fellow, and he was soon following me
everywhere, sitting by me when I worked on the computer, and
jumping up to join me when I headed to bed.
I
called him my "little buddy", and he really was.
 Junior
loved to ride in the motorhome, and the car, especially if
we were going to the bank, where the auto bank teller would
give him a dog biscuit. Pomeranians are known as "smiling
dogs", and Junior could do that ear to ear, and when he
wagged his tail, his entire body would wag, right up to his
nose.
Junior would join Nuggie, our Cocker
Spaniel, up on the wide dash of our motorhome as we headed
down the road to a new adventure, and loved to go for a walk
with me around the RV park at the end of the ride. In the
afternoon, I would often announce that it was time for our "senior
nap", and Junior and Nuggie would follow me into the
motorhome bedroom, sometimes beating me there. If I could
jump like that dog, I could leap over a house. In a couple
of minutes, we'd all be sawing wood.
I would
attach a light rope to Junior's collar when letting him out,
but once in a while, he'd roar past me. Pomeranians can run
like the wind, I could never catch him, and he would make a
game out of it, letting me almost get him, and then he would
streak around me, tongue hanging out, with that big doggie
smile.
Junior got past me last weekend, just as a
car was pulling out of our driveway. Seeing an opportunity
to catch a ride to town, I suppose, Junior ran behind it,
but as the car made a turn on to the road, Junior was run
over. A miscalculation, a mistake, an accident. I rushed
out, and Junior died in my arms.
 I
buried Junior by a big tree in our yard. Later, I looked out
to see our Cocker Spaniel standing guard by the grave.
Nuggie was there all afternoon, until it started to rain,
and I convinced her to come inside.
It has been
very quiet around here since then, we all miss Junior, and
have taken this time to consider our own mortality.
Global
Air Aviation Referral Service
I welcome
intelligent responses, and will be glad to post them here.
Email your remarks to
ron@global-air.com |
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Sorry to hear about your loss. A pet can
easily become family. No, sometimes better than family
because we can project our expectations on them and they
rarely disappoint. I miss our stupid little dog often. The
thing I really miss about her is when I would come home; the
“family” would barely notice, but the dog would
always be excited and happy to see me, waging her tail so
hard she shook from side to side. - Clint
in Minnesota
Ron; It's not fair to be jerking
tears out of me with a good dog story. Nice work. -
Dave R.
I'm sorry to hear this.
Very nice obituary for the little guy. And amazing how
Nuggie reacted. - John H.
Sad
story, sorry to hear about your loss. How do we get soooooo
attached to animals? - Oscar S.
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