It's hard to believe that five years has passed already. My husband would
probably say that January 29, 2002 was the beginning of the end of life as
we knew it. It was the day our very first foster dogs arrived.
Preacher and Franklin had been in the shelter for well over a year. Franklin was afraid of his own shadow and Preacher was so depressed he wouldn't even eat. Preacher liked nothing better than food--didn't matter what kind of food, where it was served or if it was actually meant for him, he just loved to eat. The loss of appetite was bad sign, as it was in December 2006 when not eating led to his final trip to the vet.
Today Franklin is adjusting to life without his best friend, adjusting
better than I am some days. He spent this afternoon running twenty miles in his favorite wheel position of a six dog team.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v3...rrytrail-1.jpg
We explored a new trail today, much to the dogs' delight.
No longer afraid of his shadow, Franklin is a happy, playful, silly 7 year old. He loves to pull, he loves to play chase with his both his canine and human buddies. For thefirst year we had him the only real way to interact with him was to play agame we call "Get Frankie". He playbows and barks, I chase him saying that I'm gonna get him. We still play Get Frankie almost daily, but now we play just for fun. Franklin isn't hard to catch anymore! He seeks out attention and even snuggles on the futon some nights.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v3...nniversary.jpg
Preacher was never shy, never timid. Even when he lost his sight, he never
lost his courage. He took over this house within days of his arrival,
claimed a spot in the hallway as his own and dared any other dog to try and
move him. He became my best friend, my shadow and part of my soul. He
showed me what real forgiveness, bravery and acceptance look like.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v3...preahcipoo.jpg
Five weeks after his death, it is still painfully quiet without him. I still
stop every night where he used to get fed, simply out of habit. I still
say "it's ok buddy, it's just me" as I step over his sleeping spot in the
porch. He is still very much a part of this place.
Happy Gotcha day boys.
