All my life I have loved my dogs. When I was in first grade my brother and I got off the school bus one day and found a bag of puppies tied up in a feed sack! We, or course, took them across the road to our farm house. It was like winning the lottery for a first graders. I had a sack full of puppies, a treasure that someone else tired to throw away in a cruel fashion. I got to keep one which I named Sally. That's right, after the "Dick, Jane, and Sally" readers of the early 1960's. I loved that dog with all my heart. She let me do anything to her including putting bonnets on her. When she was happy and excited she would twist her mouth into what could only be perceived as a doggie smile. What a dog.
Now I am without my Tally girl. It has been a couple of months since she went to Atlanta. I still sense her around the corner when I move through the house. I find myself waking up on the couch at midnight with the TV on because she isn't there to nudge me. At 9:45 on the dot she would always tell me to wake up. That wet nose indicating it was time to go upstairs to bed. I miss the relaxation I always felt of listening to her full out snoring on the floor. I miss seeing how much real estate that dog could manage to take up in the middle of a room when she crashed for a nap. I miss it all. I feel like I have betrayed her trust; betrayed her good hearted, full out, no-holes-barred Labrador love.
Please God, let her live a long healthy life so that I can bring her back home again when this is over; let Moose enjoy the two and half acres in Washington where he can sniff the breeze. Let them not think too much that we left them; and help me to stop crying everyday over my four legged best friends. Seriously.