Dog Gone

 I've always had dogs. I grew up with dogs. My dad was a big fan pf collies. We always had collies, he had us convinced our collie Susie was related to Lassie. Uhh not true but she did come from California. 

We also had a Sheltie, then miniature poodles and a Bichon. 

I got my first very own dog, a collie named Katy after my dad died. She was a stinker, grabbing food off the counters, refusing to come when called. I took her to obedience classes and showed in AKC competitions getting her obedience title. She had a litter of 6 balls of fluff.  

After she passed I got a Corgi named Dyna. Best dog ever. She was a true companion and we walked daily. No leash needed she would walk ahead of me pausing occasionally to make sure I kept up with her.

Then came Bobby. I decided to go the rescue route and he was my first male dog. He was a bit of a project, he was supposed to 4 years old. a combo of Jack Russell and chihuahua from a hoarding situation. He had a mis-shapened paw, which I suspect came from being kept in a cage in a puppy mill. Happens a lot. Nevertheless he became a good buddy. If I got the leash out he ran to stick his head in, ready for a walk. He loved kids and we made many friends in the neighborhood. 

He had a seizure and then another. Then started to bite himself with a seasonal itch. Poor guy went blind and deaf, was often confused and lost control of his potty habits. I had him put to sleep on a Wednesday afternoon. God has a new best friend.

The house is a bit lonely, sadly quiet. I think I need a new best friend.