Glacier
02-28-2005, 05:45 PM
Hoodoo left this world a year ago today. Actually a year ago on February 29.
You probably think that's pretty funny, don't you, Hoodoo? Only a creature with your sense of humor would have left on a day I can only truly mark once every four years. I imagine if you had your way I would only be sad once every four years, but it doesn't work that way. I miss you every day. I miss listening to your pretty howl. I miss watching you run and play. I miss cuddling with you on the couch while we watched tv.
The overwhelming pain that followed your death has subsided and left in it's wake a dull ache that somedays is almost gone. Other days my brain still screams that this isn't happening and you're still here somewhere.
You're just faking! Remember how you faked that limp when you wanted extra attention? How I wish you had been faking this time. I'd give you more attention than one dog could handle if I had the chance the again.
Four year old dogs don't have strokes and die suddenly. You were supposed to grow old here. I was supposed to be able to watch you grow from a goofy youngster to a dignified old man. It's not fair that I never got that chance. It's just not fair!!
When you left I could find no comfort in anything. Slowly I have been able to remember and smile at your silly memories. This weekend we told the story of how you, Howlin' Hoodoo, refused to howl in the dog howling contest and actually laughed without tears.
At first I was so angry that you had seemed fine two days before you died. It didn't seem right that we could have had such a fun day together on Friday and that you were dead on Sunday. Now I am grateful for that day. I'm so glad that you had one last fun day, that you got to romp and play, even that you ran off into the forest for awhile--any good husky should go dig if he gets the chance! I remember your happy, dirty face when you came back from digging that last hole. I'm sorry there weren't a thousand more holes.
I'm eternally grateful to Dr. Rick for his compassion that day. I'm glad your crossing was gentle, peaceful and that the two people who continue to love you most were able to hold your paw while you took your last breath. I could not have handled knowing you suffered and am deeply thankful to not have that burden on top of your loss.
You will never be forgotten, dear Hoodoo. You were our very first rescue dog. The 19 who have followed in your pawprints are a constant reminder that you were here and that you opened our hearts to the joys of second-hand dogs. Your presence still lingers in this yard.
I will love and miss you forever my bi-eyed beauty. Be a good boy at the bridge. I'll see you when I get there.
Love,
Mom
You probably think that's pretty funny, don't you, Hoodoo? Only a creature with your sense of humor would have left on a day I can only truly mark once every four years. I imagine if you had your way I would only be sad once every four years, but it doesn't work that way. I miss you every day. I miss listening to your pretty howl. I miss watching you run and play. I miss cuddling with you on the couch while we watched tv.
The overwhelming pain that followed your death has subsided and left in it's wake a dull ache that somedays is almost gone. Other days my brain still screams that this isn't happening and you're still here somewhere.
You're just faking! Remember how you faked that limp when you wanted extra attention? How I wish you had been faking this time. I'd give you more attention than one dog could handle if I had the chance the again.
Four year old dogs don't have strokes and die suddenly. You were supposed to grow old here. I was supposed to be able to watch you grow from a goofy youngster to a dignified old man. It's not fair that I never got that chance. It's just not fair!!
When you left I could find no comfort in anything. Slowly I have been able to remember and smile at your silly memories. This weekend we told the story of how you, Howlin' Hoodoo, refused to howl in the dog howling contest and actually laughed without tears.
At first I was so angry that you had seemed fine two days before you died. It didn't seem right that we could have had such a fun day together on Friday and that you were dead on Sunday. Now I am grateful for that day. I'm so glad that you had one last fun day, that you got to romp and play, even that you ran off into the forest for awhile--any good husky should go dig if he gets the chance! I remember your happy, dirty face when you came back from digging that last hole. I'm sorry there weren't a thousand more holes.
I'm eternally grateful to Dr. Rick for his compassion that day. I'm glad your crossing was gentle, peaceful and that the two people who continue to love you most were able to hold your paw while you took your last breath. I could not have handled knowing you suffered and am deeply thankful to not have that burden on top of your loss.
You will never be forgotten, dear Hoodoo. You were our very first rescue dog. The 19 who have followed in your pawprints are a constant reminder that you were here and that you opened our hearts to the joys of second-hand dogs. Your presence still lingers in this yard.
I will love and miss you forever my bi-eyed beauty. Be a good boy at the bridge. I'll see you when I get there.
Love,
Mom