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Our children, all grown up and the nest being empty, it was about fourteen years ago when my wife, Teresa, and I inherited our two shepherd-golden lab pup's. They were inseparable since birth and why we took them both. Their mother, "Sarah", a pure bread white shepherd, papers and pedigreed (owned and raised by my mother) took a fancy to the neighbors Golden Lab. Their romance was over before anyone knew what happened.
Folks who love their pets always seem to find something exceptional about their own. Ours were no different than anyone else's except they had an uncanny personality to stop playing (like all puppies do), walk up to us and put their head on our lap, hand or foot to show their affection. Those moments in their early life is why we chose the names, Serene and Mellow. As the years past, Serene and Mellow matured into large, fierce, muscular young ladies who enjoyed rides in the car, daily walks to the mail box. For a stranger to walk past and be anything less than polite wasn't a good idea...especially when the dogs were with Teresa.
As the years past, and our girls matured into old spinsters, one thing remained unchanging. Those moments, often several times a day when they would stop what they were doing, be it waking up from a nap, wondering around our property or listening to the birds and wildlife, when they would come to us, put their heads in our laps and show that unconditional love. Not for want of a treat or for the attention but (we think) to check on us and make sure everything is OK.
Last year (August) when Teresa was out of town, Serene, Mellow and I spent a day outside. Serene was especially playful. She did her pretend to hunt thing, snorted through the creek bed and whined at the turtles and frogs. It was just an exceptional day for her while her sister, Mellow looked on. That night Serene went to the front door and beckoned to be let out. I opened the door, turned to Mellow and ask if she wanted to go too. When I turned around, Serene fell on the deck and lay quietly. I knelt beside her, put her head in my lap and she let out her last breath. I wept for hours that night and struggled with what I was going to say to my darling wife.
When I returned to the inside of the house I watched Mellow sleeping. I went to Serene's favorite spot and picked up her blanket, went back to our deck and wrapped her up and took her to my truck seat. I buried her the next morning and then called Teresa. It's been a year since that time and Mellow was never the same. She would still walk the property, but go to Serene's special spots. We both knew she continued to look for here sister. Mellow's health degenerated to where she could no longer walk, then no longer hold her head up, eat or drink and Teresa, faithfully, hand fed her and spooned water to her mouth. And then, this morning, Teresa asked me to take her to the vet as Mellow's pain was too much for her to bear.
It's been a day filled with tears and emotions for us both. We will always have those memories of the sisters growing up in our house playing and sharing. What I will remember most is when they would come to us and put their heads in our laps, perhaps, for no other reason than to say we love you.
My wife went to bed this evening with her eyes still red and tears not yet dry. I wrote this post to share with you folks but I think it's more for Teresa than anyone else. I hope I can show it to her some day when the pain has passed and when we have that moment to remember what joy two little puppies brought to our lives.
Folks who love their pets always seem to find something exceptional about their own. Ours were no different than anyone else's except they had an uncanny personality to stop playing (like all puppies do), walk up to us and put their head on our lap, hand or foot to show their affection. Those moments in their early life is why we chose the names, Serene and Mellow. As the years past, Serene and Mellow matured into large, fierce, muscular young ladies who enjoyed rides in the car, daily walks to the mail box. For a stranger to walk past and be anything less than polite wasn't a good idea...especially when the dogs were with Teresa.
As the years past, and our girls matured into old spinsters, one thing remained unchanging. Those moments, often several times a day when they would stop what they were doing, be it waking up from a nap, wondering around our property or listening to the birds and wildlife, when they would come to us, put their heads in our laps and show that unconditional love. Not for want of a treat or for the attention but (we think) to check on us and make sure everything is OK.
Last year (August) when Teresa was out of town, Serene, Mellow and I spent a day outside. Serene was especially playful. She did her pretend to hunt thing, snorted through the creek bed and whined at the turtles and frogs. It was just an exceptional day for her while her sister, Mellow looked on. That night Serene went to the front door and beckoned to be let out. I opened the door, turned to Mellow and ask if she wanted to go too. When I turned around, Serene fell on the deck and lay quietly. I knelt beside her, put her head in my lap and she let out her last breath. I wept for hours that night and struggled with what I was going to say to my darling wife.
When I returned to the inside of the house I watched Mellow sleeping. I went to Serene's favorite spot and picked up her blanket, went back to our deck and wrapped her up and took her to my truck seat. I buried her the next morning and then called Teresa. It's been a year since that time and Mellow was never the same. She would still walk the property, but go to Serene's special spots. We both knew she continued to look for here sister. Mellow's health degenerated to where she could no longer walk, then no longer hold her head up, eat or drink and Teresa, faithfully, hand fed her and spooned water to her mouth. And then, this morning, Teresa asked me to take her to the vet as Mellow's pain was too much for her to bear.
It's been a day filled with tears and emotions for us both. We will always have those memories of the sisters growing up in our house playing and sharing. What I will remember most is when they would come to us and put their heads in our laps, perhaps, for no other reason than to say we love you.
My wife went to bed this evening with her eyes still red and tears not yet dry. I wrote this post to share with you folks but I think it's more for Teresa than anyone else. I hope I can show it to her some day when the pain has passed and when we have that moment to remember what joy two little puppies brought to our lives.
