You came to us orphaned 6 times. The man next door was only holding you until he could take you to the pound. You crawled through the fence into our lives and you never left it. That was 17 years plus ago and I can still remember as a puppy when during a cold snowy day in Lubbock, you were in the bathroom and made it snow inside by tearing up all the toilet paper in sight.
At 4 months you solved a robbery crime by digging up the break-in weapon from under the swamp cooler. That evidence resulted in the guy getting caught and his robbery ring being broken up. At 6 months you stared down a bull in a field when you took your own “field trip” as we traveled to our new home in San Antonio.
You helped us annual give out candy at Halloween and presents at Christmas. You traveled with us on all our trips and camp outs. You sat on our lap when you were young and also when you got to be 60 lbs. plus. And although you kept us up on stormy nights, we understood your fear of thunder and lighting. We thank you for that fear, it saved us when you warned us of the coming tornado. You kept at us until we got up and got to shelter. We were safe because of you. You were and are part of our family. You’re the child we were never able to have and your buddy, Starbuck misses you.
You learned our commands, ran with life and kept trying to please us when you were old, tired and hurting. You took your pills without much complaint and we paid for them with none. We knew when you stopped trying to come up the stairs to your bed that the end was near. But we just changed our lives and slept down stairs with you.
Although limping you still perked up to bark, shared my leftover milk from breakfast and would try to chase a squirrel, but decide to be content with just barking.
I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to take you home from the vet that last day only to have bring you back. I didn’t have the courage to look into your trusting eyes every day we had left knowing you were slowly being gripped by something I couldn’t fight. I took you in for what I thought was a hurt shoulder to find out you had overwhelming cancer and even taking the leg would not have stopped it. I’m sorry your last day was spent in a vet’s office, but I’m glad we, Brent and I, were there
with you at the end.
When you heard our voices, even though sedated for the x-rays you tried to sit up when we entered the room, but gladly laid down when you knew it was us and drifted off to sleep when we scratched your ears.
Go to sleep, Sugar. We will see you again. Please know that Brent stayed with you even when I wasn’t brave enough. But I came back to see you when your shining spirit had left your sore and tired body. I know your pain was really gone, but you’re really not. Your ashes are coming home to us soon, but your spirit will be with us each day that we live. Please Lord, let our Sugardog meet us when we all go into the light.
That is my hope.
Always, my Sugardog, always.
Always, Sugardog, Poopsie, always
| Sugar |
| Brent and Deann |