Not another death

This has been quite the week for them. I really hated it about Farrah; I remember her from the day. Then I saw the previews for her documentary when I was at my mom’s but missed the actual thing; caught some of it on the ‘net when I returned but didn’t get it finished – seems she didn’t get her miracle as neither did Michael, so sad. The others I didn’t know of as well but some at least played a role in our lives telling us about products I know I at least learned to think I needed.

But now the one that hits closest to home; our beloved dog – called Boss by some – I didn’t like the idea of any dog being that no matter how much I thought of him – so I called him Rex – even though – yes – I know it means king – so what’s the difference – well, at least it’s not the actual word we use. He was actually my married son’s dog, gotten as a little furball puppy actually on the way to get my DIL checked for being pregnant, which she was, so he and the baby kinda grew up together. They lived with us at the time then got their own place but I still picked him up for work then so I saw him every day and watched my son take care of him; he was still little so he kept him on a cable when he was gone; he would put him on and take him off every day and loved him so much. Then they moved off and took him with them. Then they had the ice storm when we went up and got my parents where they’d taken him so when we got them we brought him back down here with us; they coul! dn’t really keep him with them in their apartment anyway and weren’t there that much longer, anyway. He was here when I left to go be with them when they lost their baby; maybe he should have had him then. Maybe that’s why he wanted to come back so bad; he still couldn’t keep him in their apartment down here, though, so he still stayed here. In the midst of all this, it was really my youngest son who really came to love him and begin to claim him as his own, but especially while I had to be away taking care of my mom during her hip surgery. He really took care of him then. By the time I got back he was practically grown in size but still a puppy, so energetic and full of life. It was so good to see him. They didn’t come much while I was gone but once I got back and they began to come around more he was always so glad to see him as my son was to see him. Then some friends moved in with them and took up their time so once again they didn’t come around as often, then the frien! ds moved on and got their own place so once again they began to come around but still didn’t stay long. Then last night they showed up about nine – well dark – they were so glad to see each other – then they left and when they did this time we ended up following them out and he followed them as well – can you tell where this is headed? we assumed he went on back home once we all got gone – then as we got back home, almost home we saw – oh, no – a black furry spot on the road – and yes, it was – oh, no, not our lively bundle of fur – gone, at least seemingly instantly – youngest son was so upset; he cried (yes, even at 13 and I’m glad); this is the second time for the older one; he had his time before when he was 16 and driving and did it himself so was somewhat more stoic this time and, too, I was not here but I believe he was hurt, especially after also losing his little girl earlier this year and having him was filling the hole but he does seem to be going ahead and moving on – but we will still miss him so much –
We Love You – Good-bye

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About donnainthesouth

I'm a transplant, born up north but raised in the middle, now I'm down here where you don't see too many snowflakes; I'll probably post just about as often (here at least)
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