Saturday, August 18, 2012

Two Weeks...

I said goodbye to my best friend two weeks ago tonight.  At this time fourteen days ago, My Lovely Wife, Abby, and I were on our way to the Vet clinic on what would be the last truck ride of her life.  Abby had always loved going for a truck ride.  There were cows and horses to be barked at.  That was her job, but she just wasn't up for it that last time.

It has been a tough couple of weeks since.  However, time heals all wounds, and things here at home are getting pretty much back to normal.

I'm lying.

Things here at home are a shadow of what they once were.  For the feeling My Lovely Wife and I get walking around in our yard, we might as well be walking around Chernobyl.

Our legs and arms feel as if great weights are hanging from them as we force ourselves to go outside.  Any joy that we used to have in wandering around outside is gone.  The ever-present companion we had out there is no longer with us.  The deer come and go in our yard without fear of a four legged missile streaking towards them with bad intentions.

The gloom we feel outside is matched only by the cloud that hangs over us inside.  There is no barking whenever the slightest move is made towards the door.  Our house that once felt too small now feels much too large.  Popcorn night isn't popcorn night without Abby running up to get her treat for the evening as well.  The silence is deafening.

Those who have never had a pet might not understand how we would feel this way.  Those who have lost a pet they loved understand completely.  All of our friends have been very supportive as they knew how much Abby meant to us.  One couple very kindly invited us out to their new cabin at the lake last weekend to give us a much needed change of scenery.  We have also gotten many cards and wonderful words of support from our friends.  Some of these friends we have known for many years.  Others are friends that we've made over the net and have never actually met in person.  To all of those who have expressed your sentiments on our loss, please accept my heartfelt thanks with what is probably my favorite picture of The Pup.
A Very Photogenic Pup at That.
Much to our surprise, My Lovely Wife and I started looking for another dog very soon after Abby passed.  What we came to realize quite quickly was that it wasn't so much the physical attributes of the dog that was most important.  What we realized was that our next dog would absolutely have to have that same enthusiasm and zest for life that Abby had.  You see, we got Abby as a young pup from a pet store.  When we asked to see her outside of the box she was being kept in, she made the best of her opportunity and broke free.  She immediately picked a fight with a mop (and won!), and then tore off to chew the tips off the shoelaces of some innocent bystander.  All of this happened within the space of about 20 seconds.  She carried this enthusiam / bat-shit craziness throughout her life.  Where one dog might sniff around on a trail on the scent of another critter, Abby would crash through an impenetrable mass of underbrush to track that critter down.

This is indeed a tall order.  Many dogs don't have the spark Abby did, but it was this element that we'd miss the most if our next dog didn't have it.  We are reminded by everyone we've talked to that "there will never be another Abby", and we are well aware of that.  Abby was indeed one of a kind.

The search continues.  We have actually come close once or twice, but no cigar.  We'll have to be patient and wait until the dog that is right for us comes along.  Or, as the fellow we bought Abby from told us: "You don't find the dog.  The dog finds you."

Here's hoping...

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