I lost one of my best buddies ever last summer. She was soft and furry and had four legs and a white-tipped tail that was undeniably crooked. The tips of her ears bounced as she pranced a few steps ahead of me on the trail. She was a beautiful blonde with dark, seal-like eyes and a penchant for ripping any carpet she could get her paws on. In her younger days she refused to get out of the car for hours on end. In her older days she barked for treats every time someone entered her (oh, I mean our) home. She was my first true animal friend and I adored her. It might even be fair to say that we were neurotically attached. She taught me about the miracle of inter-species relationships. She taught me to love walking in nature, particularly in the snow, and to dread the sound of lightening. She gave me the priceless gift of presence. Past and future melted away as I watched her wade in the water or hike up a mountain. Most importantly, she brought more love to our family than you can imagine.
My daughters named her Boo. However, once we caught wind of her true temperament, we dubbed her Princess Tookiboo. She fit right into our family, holding her own with the two little princesses who named her. Each one with a nickname, we called them Buda, B and Boo. All three of them ruled the roost. Not that I’m proud of that. I fall apart in the face of little ones, furry or otherwise. I just want to hug them, pet them, and give them treats. I failed miserably in the structure/direction/communication department. Consequently, as they grew older I was faced with three attached, cautious, funny, smart (okay, maybe smart is a stretch for Boo), beautiful broads who didn’t dig doing anything they didn’t feel like digging. I mean doing.
Boo stayed very close to me throughout her life. She worked with me, walked with me, sat with me, ate with me, and slept with me. I loved every, well maybe almost every, minute of that time. She was devoted and unconditionally loving, albeit not perfectly trained. I guess that I can say the same about my two grown, human princesses. Yes, yes, and their mother too. We were a perfect fit.
Boo earned those red wings. She was a healer. We collaborated during work hours as she sat on the couch and provided comfort to those who landed next to her. More profoundly, she entered our three person family after a rough period of time and (yes, with my husband’s help) turned our house into a home. We grew to feel safe and loved with Boo around. She helped us recover the stability we so longed for. She was our anchor, our salve, our hero.
I will be forever grateful for the time we had together and I know that I can speak for my family and all those she touched in saying, we will miss you forever dear Boo.
With all of my heart, Jane