I've been away from the blogging world for quite some time; a casualty of many changes in my life. Things have finally settled (somewhat) and it's now time to give posting another shot.
Unfortunately, and with deep regret, I relay one of the big changes was the loss of my eldest dog, Willow, a staple on this blog, on April 14th. It was very sudden and completely unexpected and devastating. Circling around the loss, and compounding everything, was illness in the other dogs (to be delved in more completely at a later time). To say it's been a challenging 10 weeks, is a bit of an understatement.
The house still seems cavernously empty, even with the three other dogs here. Willow was a big personality; a snarky, certainly bossy, entertaining, master rooing, tennis-ball chasing (and those of you with greyhounds know how rare that is), snack slut, big personality.
She was my first dog. As a grown up. We've had family pets, but she was the first I got as adult. That I was responsible for - all by myself. She is also the first one I've lost. She was my oops dog, I learned on her, which she knew and didn't seem to mind. She just looked at me with that 'whatever' look when I screwed something up (see photo below for a classic 'whatever' look.).
She was with me for 6 years and completely changed the course of my life; I have friends I would have never met, places I would have never traveled to, activities I would have never done, and three other dogs I would not have adopted, if it had not been for adopting her. Though let's get that one part straight - she chose me. From the get go. I had been introduced to a number of different greyhounds. But from the first front footed bunny hop she did when she saw me as she walked out the kennel door and directly into my heart, I was hers. And I know with all that same heart, she is still hanging around, bossing everyone about from the other side.
I don't believe she crossed over the rainbow bridge. I think she has managed to finagle a two-way pass, and spends her time sprinting back and forth across that bridge; part of the time relaxing on the most cushiony dog beds ever made, hoarding a multitude of squeaky toys and being fed snackie treats by her minions, and the rest of the time watching over me and Breeze, Dru and Angel. Making sure we are doing thing in a way she would approve and finding a way to direct us when we are not. She's too stubborn not to be able to put her two cents in from where she is.
So even now, after this much time as passed, I type through blurry, tear-filled eyes remembering just how much I loved her, how much she changed me and my life, and how special she was. From the snarking at Angel to move out of the way so she could be the first to greet me when I got home, to immediately running over to celebrate my arrival with her squeaky toy, to the investigating in the kitchen whenever I rustled a bag, just hoping that something in there would be for her, to stuffing her head completely into said bag to see what was in it for her, to staring at the kitchen floor waiting for that piece of chicken, cheese, hamburger, etc to magically appear for her to eat, to digging so many holes in the back yard it looked like a moonscape, to giving me the demanding paw when I would stop petting her. I thank the time she gave to me. And I post to a blog that would not exist if she didn't choose me that fate-filled day at the kennel so long ago. Run free sweet girl. You are very much missed.