MAN's Best Friend?

I've written about the antics of my two dogs, Hunter and Shelby before, but I'll have to admit, they weren't my first loves. Sixteen years ago I brought home a beautiful little pup named Sandy. Her breed has always been unclear, but I fell in love with her just the same. I didn't have any children so I babied her like you wouldn't believe. When she was a little pup, she looked just like a miniature Saint Bernard and was so adorable with her mixture of white and brown coloring, that I couldn't help but adore her. Her eyes looked like someone had taken eyeliner and carefully lined her eyes, then continued past the outer corners of her eyes. She was beautiful and had a magnetic personality. She was almost perfect. She was completely housebroken, and I knew that she could be trusted alone for long periods of time without her having an accident. I used to say that she would be perfect if only she didn't shed, but I loved her in spite of all the fur.

She was my companion when I got divorced and when I went to college. I used to bring her to my friend's house while I was in class to hang out with her younger brother, Bandit (on the right). They were close companions, in fact, I would tell Sandy that we were going to Bandit's house and she'd get all excited. All 8 pounds of her would jump into my lap anxious for both the ride and the destination. She was a smart little dog too. I had to spell words like walk, ride, and her favorite treat of all, carrots, but she would occasionally be able to still figure out what I was trying to say.

This past fall, my sister, who's been taking care of her for the past six years, had to put Sandy down. Sandy had been having trouble with her blood sugar for a few years, she had arthritis, and when my sister brought her to the vet this last time, was having heart problems. Sandy had just turned 15 on July 13, 2008. She had lived a great life and was so loved by everyone who met her. The last time I saw her was last February when I stayed over my sister's place because of a workshop I had to attend. Sandy slept with me all that night, and when I got ready to leave the next morning, I had a feeling that it would be the last time I would see her. It was so hard to leave, and the funny thing is, I think she felt the same way too.

Well, tonight I made the mistake of watching the movie Marley & Me, and it reminded me why I prefer watching movies in the privacy of my own home. Don't get me wrong, it was a great movie, but when Marley got old and sick for the last time, I cried so much that I caught myself holding my breath and was on the verge of heaves. Kenny, my oldest stepson, kept watching me. He knows how I get because I cry at everything. I even cried at the end of Meet the Robinsons, so he knew without a doubt that I would be crying at this part for sure. The best thing about it all was that Kenny knew that I was thinking about Sandy. He knows me that well, and he's just that kind of kid. He even asked me if I wanted a hug. What a sweetheart! He's gonna make some lucky woman a great husband some day.

Why am I sharing this with you all? Good question. Perhaps it's a form of healing for me, to talk, or shall I say write about what Sandy meant for me. I cried when my sister told me about Sandy, and had a few moments since then, too, but I suspect that I haven't fully grieved for her. Some people may think that I'm being over dramatic, perhaps I am, but as I explained before, she was like my baby and she gave me nothing but unconditional love for the entire time we were together. I will never forget Sandy.