Hello everyone. I'm really slow off the mark with stuff, kind of neophobic like a rat
Lurked for ages, signed up, then didn't post anything
"original" and brilliant like so many others and, well, may never but love being here regardless. It is infinitely better than any other site and
the first I've joined, not being a joiner.
So tonight I can't sleep any more because I keep waiting for my dog to come home. He passed away last week at fourteen years old but I am suffering
from phantom limb or perhaps phantom dog.
We had a ridiculously co-dependent, relationship and when he would wake up in the morning he'd greet me as if I had been gone all day. I'm not sure
he understood that dreams weren't off somewhere else but it was this oddball outlook on life that earned him his name, Loco.
And true to name, he was wired differently. He gently chewed on his knees all the time, but would forget and get up to go somewhere and try to walk
with the knee still in his mouth like a ball! Weird is as weird does. He'd stomp out fire like the rhinoceros on "The Gods Must Be Crazy"... all
fine till it was a spent firework.
His fur felt like a plush stuffed animal and smelled like oranges, citrusy until he was about eight when it got a little rougher around the edges. I
can count the number of times he farted on both hands unlike the totally rank pit bulls I had before him.
He was a Spanweiler. Someone was definitely playing god the day they decided to cross a Rottweiler and a Springer Spaniel, but he was free. And free
being good, the owner of the puppies tried to convince us we needed a second puppy because Loco wasn't so bright.
We declined the kind offer and took home with us fourteen years of gratitude and joy.
I can joke through the heartbreak but, though not religious, heaven to me would be dog heaven and running with my beloved pack again.