It wasn’t that long ago that I said goodbye to my first dog Lucie and before that, Pattie who was my second dog.
Now I have another farewell.
Punkie came to me through a friend.
His original owner passed away and he was ready for a new home. At the time I remember even saying I didn’t want to go to my friend’s house to meet him because I knew we’d be coming home together.
We took to each other instantly and I was so happy to take him home with me. He seemed pretty ok with it too.
Punkie had his peculiarities. I got him with a food and water dish and he wouldn’t eat or drink from anything else. I could leave a plate of food on the coffee table and he wouldn’t touch it. It was either feed him by hand (which I enjoyed doing) or put it in his bowl.
Rides in the car were interesting to say the least. He would dart from one side of the back seat to the other and bark at everything we passed. Eventually I took an idea from the “Dog Whisperer” and took him for a long walk before a trip. That did the trick every time and he’d relax (aka, sleep) in the back.
He loved the car too. If I’d leave the door open while washing the windows, he’d hop right in. Getting him out wasn’t that hard. I’d tell him to get out and he would though I swear he looked like he was sulking every time.
Anytime was playtime for Punkie too. When I needed a break from working I’d just ask out loud if he wanted to play with his Frisbee and he’d come tearing from around the corner with those thunderous paws of his announcing his approach.
Seriously, I never understood how such a little dog made so much noise walking.
We’ve gone through some rough times together recently and it was always been great knowing that he was there when I’d walk in the door or when I wanted an assurance that someone was there unconditionally.
The neighbors brought the remains over. There’s a big black plastic bag that I don’t want to go near. If I don’t open it, maybe it won’t be him. I don’t want to add a third collar to my collection on the mantle.