My dog died

Two nights ago, this guy died.  He answered to Loveabub, Bubbaloo, Youlittlefukker (said at just the tone that sent him running w/a grin), Stinkpot, Stinksalot, HeyYou, Imgonnakickyourass, Moses, Meathead, ScoobyDoofus, Dufois, SFB, Wherethehellisthebutter and some terms not fit for print.   He wasn’t the brightest bulb but he was the best dog.  Four years, two cross-country trips, at least half the 60K miles that are on my Mini were spent together.  He was coolness personified (the little story of him w/ my bra and having his penis licked by another dog notwithstanding).  Able to run 25 miles an hour for 3 miles, leap cats in a single bound, lick hands and tears in a moment, crawl under mama’s feet in a gunshot, and bring me from despair to unbridled joy with one doofy grin and unexpected sprint across the yard!!

He was a constant reminder of unconditional love, my own sense of adventure, how much I really would sacrifice for another (he often ate when I couldn’t), to pay attention (to things like butter and bacon on the counter for instance), to just be.  He ate hay (not recommended), butter, bacon, boots (the black 4 inchers nearly cost him dearly!), and bras.  He loved to roll in cow crap and skunk spray and then share it!  He had the patience that I usually don’t, he loved cats and cows, was a fabulous footwarmer, and is missed ferociously.  Sometimes I crack up w/ a memory, other times I’m pretty sure my heart’s been permanently cracked.   I miss his cold nose and warm heart.


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