....If you've gone through this before I suspect you know that the most painful reminder of Fred's absence right now is the act of coming in the front door. It's quiet. There's no bending over. There's no happy admonishing; I don't have to say, "Okay, Okay, we're home, we're home. I know. Yes, I see you." That we should all be greeted so happily every single time we walk in a room, our days would be that much better and the world that much happier.
So we miss that. And now we're talking about the nice life Fred had. Rather than that last day of his, which must have been so confusing, we're thinking about how happy and well fed and peculiar he was. I'll bet your dog was or is unique, too. I'll bet you and your dog have a special relationship and that you can tell me about the funny things he does or the odd, inexplicable demands he puts on your life.
Fred, as a dachshund, was very territorial. He loved his people. He didn't love people with hats, for some reason. Small wheels agitated him, which was bad news for the children zooming around the neighborhood sometimes. He was never, not once, kind to our mailman. Some neighbors and friends he instantly came to like, others not so much. It wasn't clear exactly who would get his blessing, but in general I'd say he was wise and just. And spoiled, something that today we don't regret.
I'll bet, too, you have a funny vocabulary with your dog, your own nicknames and phrases you use to interact. Brenda would say that Fred was her "trusty steed." This much was clear: our Fred was very, very long and thick. I didn't call him America's Largest Weiner Dog for nothing. He was celebrated in our neighborhood that way and people seeing him for the first time would do a double and triple take. Almost everyday, just to keep his ego in check, I'd hold his head and tell him, "Fred, you're not popular. No one likes you." That was almost a cue for Brenda to chime in, "EVERYONE likes Fred," or words to that effect. It was just one of our little dances.
So dance with your dog today. Feed him a piece of chicken for me. And celebrate the acts of kindness our pets pay us everyday; payments we cannot return in kind.
Read more about Fred at wgnradio. Rest in peace little one....er...BIG one!