Today I cleaned your nose prints off the backdoor... for the last time. I've been avoiding it. I knew I would cry, but I had no idea how hard. For years, when I'd cry and no one else was home, you'd come find me, we'd curl up and you would let me cry on you until your silky soft ears were soaked with my tears. Today, crying
for you instead of next to you, only added to the difficulty of cleaning the backdoor and was a painful reminder of the last teardrops I shed on your ears just three weeks ago.
We said goodbye to you in the dark, early morning hours of February 24th and I have been putting off (what once was a several-times weekly task) every single day since then. We all miss you terribly, Sophie, and there really aren't words to describe the profound void that now exists. We knew our days with you were passing quickly, but, no matter how much we prepared ourselves, there was no preparing.
Preston talks about you, without our prompting,
every single day, telling us how much he misses playing with you, how pretty you are and how sad he is that he doesn't see you. The other night, he "wrote" you a note and asked us to send it to you in Heaven. He has also drawn pictures for you that we need to "keep in a safe place until you come back from Heaven." Last night at dinner, he toasted to you and said, "For Sophie in Heaven. I miss my dog. Cheers."
Gracie misses you so much, too, which goes without saying. After all, the two of you shared a bond that was undeniably special and daddy and I were privileged to witness moments between you that were absolutely breathtaking.
Although you spent every night "making rounds" to each room where we were all sleeping, you spent your last few mostly in Gracie's room. On that last night, you slept on the floor at the foot of her bed... never leaving her room. Thankfully, she and Preston were asleep when you woke me up and they remained asleep when Daddy carried you to my car. However, you most certainly came and said your own special goodbye to Gracie later that morning when she went looking for you before school. It was a sacred moment that left both daddy and I in tears and one which we won't ever forget. Thank you for that priceless gift and countless others.
Every part of our daily routine included you... chores, playtime, leaving, coming home... everything. I still feel your body up against the back of my legs and turn to look for you. I still hear your chain shake when you get up at night needing to be let out. I still hear you at the back door, giving one quick little bark to remind someone that you're done and want to come back inside. I still step over and around where you'd lie in our bedroom, my instincts and habits do not coincide with the reality that you're not there. I still look for you to greet us at the gate when we drive up. I still wait for you to come lay at my feet when I sit at the computer. Missing you and seeing the kids miss you is so painful, but it is also a testament to the love and bond that we shared with you for twelve years and ten days...
and thinking of that is joyful.
It was 1999, we had just bought our first home and I wasn't moving in until after we got married. Our wedding was four months away and, after saving for almost two years, we were taking a much anticipated, extended honeymoon to Europe. Suffice it to say that getting a pet and then leaving that pet for six weeks wasn't on our radar.
But, all that changed while my mom and I were running some wedding errands in downtown Walnut Creek. The Contra Costa Humane Society had opened an adoption center in a store that had just gone out of business. There were cats in the front windows... they were so cute... so I wanted to walk inside, much to my mom's chagrin... we were, after all, trying to get things done. We went separate directions as we walked in and I was making friends with a cat when she came up behind me and told me to come in the back. "You have
got to see this dog."
I followed my mom into the back and there you sat. You were clearly uncomfortable in your surroundings, but no amount of discomfort could hide the most soulful, beautiful, perfectly lined eyes. You had the sweetest face... you were quiet, gentle, regal looking - - even with a red bandanna around your neck. (I'm quite certain that no other dog could sport a bandanna and still manage to look regal!) It was obvious that you had easily bonded with Beth, the woman at the Humane Society who had been taking care of you, and her presence put you at ease as more and more people started walking in, several of whom were interested in taking you home. Thankfully, my mom and I had also bonded a bit with Beth and she put us at the top of the list for potential adoptive homes for you (I hadn't even called Daddy yet!). I explained that we were getting married soon and that we would be leaving for a long honeymoon... wondering if that would be an immediate deterrent from them letting us adopt you. I knew that my family would take care of you in our absence, but wondered how our absence in just a few months would affect you. She wasn't too concerned.
She told us what they knew about you... which wasn't much. You were about a year and a half or two... though you looked much younger (you looked young even as a senior dog... wish we all could age as gracefully as you did!). You were a German Shepherd mix... they assumed a Greyhound breed (later agreed on by vets as a German Shepherd and Sloughie mix). You had already been spayed (which was so sad to us, as you would have made a wonderful doggie mommy and had the cutest puppies ever!). They had given you the name "Simone" which was problematic, as it didn't suit you in the least. You were found wandering around town by animal control, underweight, with no collar. You were taken to the pound and put on a 24-hour list - - that meant that if you weren't adopted/rescued within 24 hours, you would have been put to sleep. The pound was overcrowded and thought you were too anti-social... what they didn't realize was that you were simply terrified and likely, depressed. Oh, and, of course, the Shepherd in you was certainly not warm and fuzzy with strangers who hadn't earned your trust... neither was the Sloughie part of you, for that matter. Thankfully, a Humane Society volunteer went to
that pound on
that day and
rescued you. I'm so grateful... because (regardless of who adopted you) you deserved a chance at life... and I was in love. So was my mom... it was impossible not to be. I stepped outside to call Daddy and he was perplexed about my sudden interest in a pet... after all, this didn't make much sense. But, I knew that he just needed to meet you...
I brought him back that same night. You were really nervous to meet him (because they gave us privacy and moved us into a small, empty room and you were terrified), but won him over nevertheless. We spent our evening at dinner discussing you and how you'd fit into our lives and, by dessert, we knew we were going to adopt you for sure. The next day was Valentine's day - - and became known as your "Re-Birthday." We bought you a bed, collar, leash, food, a few toys and headed out to get you. You were quiet on the drive home, looking out the rear window of the car, presumably for Beth, but you really adjusted quickly when you were introduced to your new digs! Though we toyed with a name symbolic to Valentine's Day, it was quickly decided that we'd call you Sophie and you easily adjusted to that, too... along with the numerous nicknames you accumulated over the next 12 years and 10 days. The most used name was "Moomer" which came about because, as we discovered in the first few days that you joined our family, you made a soft "mooing" sound when content. It was the cutest sound... similar to a cat purring... and we loved hearing it.
 |
| Looking regal in 2008 while sunbathing in one of your favorite spots in our Roseville backyard |
You were such a good girl... most of the time. You had a few moments of mischief early on... you ate my brother's tuxedo shoes the night before our wedding. (No one told me until a couple of days after the wedding!) You destroyed a few pillows in the first few months. In the first few weeks, we thought you were going to jump through the front window anytime someone walked through our front gate. You tried jumping the fence in our backyard... not in an effort to escape, but rather to get the squirrels who quickly learned taunting you was not the smartest idea. You were
fast. You would dig a bit here and there, but we broke you of that pretty easily. You did, however, insist on burying every rawhide bone that you could sneak by us and get outside.
We quickly learned that rawhide was not the best treat for you!
We constantly wondered what your story was... whomever had you before had clearly taken time to housebreak you. You also knew how to sit, shake and stay (most of the time). You were smart as a whip and with just a bit of effort and time, Daddy (I helped, too!) added speaking, howling, smiling, rolling over and dancing to your repertoire. You understood so many words that we actually had to spell "walk" "park" "car" "bath" and several others because you'd go absolutely nuts if you thought any of those things were happening and we weren't moving fast enough!
In our first house, the local pet store was within walking distance and they had a dog wash facility that you loved. We used to walk you there all the time for baths and when you were done, we'd buy you a pig's ear and you'd carry it in your mouth all the way home... you'd even sit patiently with it in your mouth at the crosswalks. And you LOVED to go on walks... long ones, two of them almost every day. One of my favorite days ever was walking for hours in the rain with you and Daddy. If I remember correctly, we walked over seven miles that day... just aimlessly wandering through neighborhoods in the drizzle that turned to rain. Until we left the Bay Area, your most favorite place to go was Point Isabel's Dog Park. You'd literally start this crazy, excited whining in the car the minute that we could see the exit on the freeway. We felt so guilty when we moved away and there wasn't anything off-leash even remotely comparable to "your Disneyland."
 |
Such a cuddle bug... you never did get the memo about not actually being a lap dog!
Just looking at this, I can hear you "mooing." |
You loved it when we ordered Chinese food... it meant white rice and fortune cookies for you!
You loved the beach, snow, camping (you slept right between us in our tent!)... anything that meant you were coming with us.
You used to love chasing daddy... he'd take off running, I'd make you wait, let you off the leash and you'd go off like a rocket, full-speed, catch and pass him. Other times, you'd gently nip at his shorts as you'd pass him by... sort of like you were trying to pants him. I loved this because it made him giggle like a kid.
You also loved chasing squirrels. When we moved from Pleasant Hill to Roseville, we didn't have any squirrels, so daddy started calling the cats in the neighborhood squirrels. You lunged at every cat you saw after that. Funny... sort of. When we moved to this house, you got your squirrels back and that made us both happy.
You had a love-hate relationship with the flies that would come in the house. You hated it when they bugged you, but you loved it when daddy would say, "Get the bug, Sophie! Get the bug!" You'd hop around until you'd snap it up, that is, if daddy (aka... Mr. Miyagi) hadn't already snagged it ninja-style. This was a game that the two of you would play while I would be rolling my eyes at you both, laughing and, of course, making sure lamps and such weren't flying around the room.
You, I'm quite certain, dreaded Easter because I made you wear ears every year... but you did it because you knew it was our tradition and it made me happy.
You loved staring at fires in the fireplace, especially at Nana's. You also loved napping in front of the fire. Smart girl.
You could hear a can of whipped cream opening from across the house. It was truly like a party trick. Daddy would say, "Watch this..." and open the whipped cream and just barely start to hit the nozzle... you'd come running, even if you were sound asleep. Hilarious. And, again, smart girl.
You had battles with your health... tumors... multiple... that led to multiple surgeries over a year and a half period. You even were followed by a nuclear medicine veterinarian for about a year. During that time, you also decided to get into the trash and eat an entire bag of frozen chicken wings - - bones and all. Despite multiple ultrasounds expecting devastating intestinal damage, you were fine. Oddly enough, your health issues resolved right about the time that Gracie came home from the NICU. It seemed silly after the fact, but when I was pregnant with her, we were worried about how you'd react, whether you'd be jealous, etc. You had so much love to give and, truth be told, you seemed to know when I was pregnant before we did... both times... so our worries were unfounded.
 |
Hanging out just a few days before my
due date with Gracie |
You were so protective of me and would often lay with your head on my belly, especially when I was pregnant with Gracie (since I had more time to just lie around then!). To help introduce you to Gracie's scent, we brought home swaddling blankets from the NICU and put them next to your bed. You knew things were changing... we weren't home a lot for a while... and when we were, we were often sad. You were such a rock for us... loyal, lending your body as a pillow and catching our tears. When Gracie finally came home, you were so gentle and patient... and that never, ever changed with regard to her. Though she would reach out to quickly touch you, she didn't voluntarily start petting you (due to sensory issues) until she was about four. But, she didn't need to pet you to bond - - she would stare at you and lay next to you for hours. You'd let her do just about anything... things you wouldn't have ever let Preston (or anyone else) get away with... including pulling the fine fur between your paw pads! You sensed so much about her and she about you. You played well with Preston, and considering how old you were, you put up with a lot from him. One thing was certain about you and your relationship with the kids... they were "your kids" and you protected them fiercely. And even though we never considered you to be "in the background" of our lives, you are in the background of so many of the pictures... observing, lovingly standing guard and making sure "all is well."
I miss you so much, Moomer. I miss your company, the comfort your presence offered, the unconditional love you gave so freely. You truly were the best, smartest, most loyal, loving, fun dog ever... and without you and your ears to cry on, I'm not sure how daddy and I would have gotten through some of the darkest days of our lives. I still look for you in your favorite spot outside, in the dirt behind the avocado tree and when I don't find you there, my eyes habitually dart to the backdoor where you'd often wait... nose gently touching the glass. Then I remember... you're busy running in circles with Chancy, chasing squirrels... and making nose prints in Heaven.
