Photo copyright Wings, 2019; all rights reserved. |
How is it eight years already? Eight years tonight since we lost the first of my pack (first of the pack I brought to what would become our larger one, that it). First to be lost, not first member: Dom was actually the third to join the pack, the little grubster princess.
The actual time isn't until 10:42 PM, but by then, these days, anyway, I'm already in bed, not fit for movement of any sort. To that end, I've already taken the cedar and tobacco and water out to where she rests beneath a heart stone; Wings found that for her when we buried her to next morning way back in 2011. She was the sort of pup who would always be a pup, no matter how old she got, and at that time, we calculated her age at roughly eleven, eleven and a half. Like the others, she developed cancer, fast-moving and untreatable by the time it manifested, a scant couple of weeks after I returned home, having had to be out of town for five weeks.
The paw was a thing; that lift in the photo was characteristic. By the time this was taken, about four and half months before we lost her, it had become equal parts injury, habit, and attempt to work it. Her leg had been broken and left unset for too long before she came to me, presumably an injury resulting from what were evidently her early days as a bait dog. The rescue shelter where she landed rebroke the leg and fused it — and promptly let it get infected. That got fixed immediately when she wound up with me, but it was far too late for the leg. And it did tire easily, even hurt at times, but she also used it to guilt-trip the humans in her life whenever she didn't want to do something.
And with that face, it was hard to resist her, although I mostly managed. Wings doted on her; while I was away those five weeks, he taught her to ride on the back of the ATV, and she kept him company while he worked. He misses her as much as I do, and eight years has not diminished that for either of us.
I am grateful, though, that she was able to live here, to have acres on which to run, a full pack with whom to play. Humans to keep as her pets. For as hard as her life began, up until the last day, she had a beautiful life of it once she came to me, one made even better for her here.
We love you, Dommers. You're never out of our hearts.
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2019; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
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