Korah died yesterday. I can’t think of a better tribute than
to repost one of my most well-visited posts. Enjoy reading some of my favorite
memories about her…
We taught our dog to talk. She can say I love you and out,
though the two often get confused. We sometimes think she’s expressing her
affection for us when she really just needs to hit the grass.
This got me thinking. What would our beloved canine say if she really could talk? Here are my
thoughts on this I 8 Wednesday:
- I like how my mom (she
calls herself that, but I’m no fool. I don’t believe I grew in her belly
like those other three non-hairy ones) nestles
next to me when she’s sad. Yum…salty tears.
- I’ve worked hard to master what they call “a cute puppy dog
face” when I’m drooling, and dying to have a little nibble of what they’re
eating. Mom caves easily. The non-hairy ones seem indifferent and usually
let me take a few licks. Dad, he’s the hardest one. Gotta work on my face
more.
- My family feels bad for me when I get squirted by a skunk.
Sheesh, it’s happened enough times. What they don’t know is I’m the one
who wins. They’ve never seen the skunk after the fiasco, have they?
- Mom must really enjoy picking up my poop. She saves it all
for one day toward the end of the winter and spends over an hour scooping
it up in the backyard (aka:
my kingdom).
- Yes, I eat my own fur after they brush it off of me (if I can get to it in time).
What they don’t know is every time I eat it it goes into my stomach and
finds a way to grow on my skin again. So the brushing thing—it’s really a
futile act. Wonder when they’ll wake up and smell the truth? Humans!
- The vet = public enemy #1. Cats in our neighborhood are
spies for the vet. I can’t figure out what side the mail carrier is on.
But I’m beginning to understand those pesky squirrels in the backyard (my
kingdom) aren’t just gathering nuts. I think they’re transferring messages
to the cats to take to public enemy #1.
- Yeah, so, I walked straight up to the police station where
the animal control guy parks his truck? I wanted to see what it was like
on the inside. Mom’s a writer. She gets this. All in the name of research,
right Mom?
- I’ve been all around the country, but I’d have to say the
coolest place my parents took me (other
than a park in South Dakota where my parents had to chuck graham crackers
out of the car…dropping some inside the car…in order to get past the
enormous donkeys) was
Mount Rushmore. Loved seeing those big rock heads. A little afraid they’d
tumble down on us, but I tend to pick up on Mom and Dad’s anxiety and they
didn’t act near as scared as when they do when they detect the first whiff
of skunk.
What would your pet say if they could talk?
Also, I'm guest posting about being 14 over at Heather Sunseri's today. So grateful, Heather!
I'm so sorry about your dog, Wendy. I know it is a hard thing to lose a pet who has been a long time member of the family. :(
ReplyDeleteIf our dog could talk, she'd ask where the kids all went and when they are coming home again!
So sorry, Wendy.
ReplyDeleteWe lost our Greyhound, Pickles, last November to bone cancer, and our Border Collie, Fly, this past spring to kidney failure. Both girls were elderly. If they could talk, they would say, "I love you". That's what they always said to us in their actions and tongue licks.
Oh, Wendy, I'm sorry. Doggies are family and it's devastating to lose them!
ReplyDeleteThis is the sweetest thing. Smart dog, that Korah! She reminds me so much of our dog, Mama. Mama was a Chow/Golden Retriever mix. She and her daughter (Lucky) used to run with us, sneakers, sweat, cars, and curves. When Mama got older, her physiology made it hard for her to run. She was burly in the chest, short on legs, long on fur. She would amble to the end of the driveway, sorry to see us go on a run without her. We would say, "Come on Mama!" She'd sit on her haunches and if she could talk, she would say, "You go on. I'll be here when you get back."
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