Ol' Red.

Friends and neighbors, let me tell you why I haven't been posting lately.

Soon after Cuddles died (of natural causes), Red died (of un-natural causes). Red was trying to cross the road and got hit by a truck. That left just Rascal at my in-laws house. After the eulogy I wrote for Cuddles, I felt that Red deserved no less. Unfortunately, I never got a round tuit. There were other things that had passed in my life that I probably would have told you about them had I typed them out as they happened, but I felt bad about not having something special for Red.

Why don't I share with you Red's story now so I can get on with sharing everything with you?

Red was a neighborhood dog. He always had been. He just kinda took up at my in-laws house shortly after my in-laws told my wife "Leave that dog alone, or he'll stay around."

Sure enough, they were right, not as if Shanda ever doubted them in the first place. Like Cuddles, Red was another happy dog, almost always smiling. He was also a jealous dog. You couldn�t pet anyone else without petting Red. If you didn�t, he�d put his head under your hand and pet himself.

Red loved to get dirty. Well, he�s a dog, and that�s what dogs do, right? Red loved to roll around in the sand pile, or dig up a cool place in the shade to lie down. Red also loved to shortly thereafter, come and put a paw up on your Sunday slacks or skirt.

Red liked roaming. We saw him about 5 miles or so from home one night walking down the side of the road. We stopped and told him to get back home. I�m pretty sure he�d marked something a ways down the road before, and he felt that he still was right at home. He was.

It�s always sad when a dog dies, especially when it seems so preventable, like getting hit by a car or something like that. Like my father-in-law said, �He died doing something he liked to do.� Someday we�ll pass on from this world, and hopefully we�ll be fortunate enough to go out enjoying something we love.

We�ll be there soon, Red. Find a nice hole to dig, because we�ll be wearing our Sunday best when we get there.

Comments disabled 12 November 2007

Riding in Trucks with Dogs

I had the pleasure of meeting my wife's family dog, Cuddles soon after Shanda and I began dating. Cuddles had a bark that was sure to instill fear into any stranger, both real and imaginary. I soon discovered that bark was the entirety of her "tough dog" image. I was sitting on the steps outside Shanda's parents house and Cuddles came and sat as close to me as she could. "That's why we named her Cuddles," my wife told me. Cuddles looked me in the eyes and smiled.

She was the mother of 30 acres of farmland. An accident at a young age left her being a "math dog" (four legs, walks on three, carries one). That didn't slow her down, though. She could keep up with the fastest of them. Especially once someone let the tailgate down. She couldn't hop into the truck on her own, but if anyone was there to help her, she wanted to get in. She didn't care if the truck was moving or not, because in her mind, it was.

As she grew older, she had some bad days, some good days. When the bad days started to outnumber the good, my mother-in-law let Cuddles lay where she wanted, whether it was in the flower bed or not.

Just yesterday, my father-in-law and I were talking about how unfair it is that dogs live such short lives. As soon as you grow attached to them, it's time for them to go. Perhaps that's just our selfish nature. After all, when you're only a couple of feet tall, there's only so much of the world to see, and only so many things to do. They teach us so much the short time they're with us: patience, persistance, selflessness, authority, love.

Cuddles, it was wonderful to know you. Enjoy barking at your imaginary friends, and have fun running and jumping into the backs of pickup trucks on your own. May God watch over you until we meet again.

TheBig Blog

Ol' Red.

Riding in Trucks with Dogs