Some days, it’s hard to think of Timmy in focus.
It’s sort of blurry and foggy, trying to remember when he padded around the house, spinning his circles and wandering into walls.
Even harder to remember when he could run, through the house, on the beach, and in the forest. How he thought he was doing agility because he was tied up with the other dogs and barking with everyone and going through a tunnel. How he liked to wander around at the barn and sometimes just walked into a pasture already occupied by a mean horse. How he went everywhere with me, shotgun in the front seat of my truck. How we’d be walking and he’d find an old, moldy burrito and run away to scarf it down. How he liked to get out of the yard and wander around the neighborhood. How he knew dogs weren’t supposed to step on paintings on the floor of the studio. Or bark in the mac lab at calarts. Or jump out of the basket on the back of my bike.
Timmy just did what he knew how to do best. Be the best dog.
awww he was a dear friend – I’m gld you are still treasuring the memories of him
I was saying to somebody the other day – certain settings still bring back such strong memories of my first dog (gone over 20 years now) I would swear I can still hear her tags jangling. I guess when you love somebody enough to give them your heart they take over a little piece of yours forever too.
It’s been five months since our Mesa died and I felt weird just last night crying because it hurt so hard. In my head I feel like it shouldn’t hurt so intensely now, but in my heart it still does. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only one.