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Honey Girl


Woodenlion

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The past two nights have been long as I sat vigil with my dear sweet Honey. I rescued her from the Humane Society when she was a year and half, a distressed mutt pacing in a cage. It was a cold wet November day and she was an emaciated and nervous. I didn’t sleep for days when she first came home with me. Restless, whining, and unable to keep food down, it took time and patience to convince her she was safe. Loving Honey was easy. I used to call her my doe face. She had the sweetest brown eyes.

 

She loved to have her belly rubbed but hated to be held. She would not share her bed, hell she would not share my bed if she got to it first. So gentle I could trust her with the smallest child. How she loved playing with the neighborhood children. They would come three and four times a day. “Can I take Honey out, can she come and play?” they would plead. It broke her heart when they no longer came by to play with her.

 

So we took to long walks and tennis balls. I introduced squeaky toys to keep her occupied on rainy days. All I had to say was Honey where is your eeii, eeii? http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b48/tshar/004.jpg When she brought Pierre out DH would give the frog a French accent. It was hysterical and Honey had great fun. Pierre would last for weeks until finally she could not take it any longer and would gently rip the squeaker out of it.

 

Honey always on patrol, listening. Goodbye my sweet girl, you can rest now.

 

http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b48/tshar/Honey.jpg

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I am so sorry to hear about Honey. She is among many good dogs waiting at the Bridge. She will always hold a place in your heart.

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Once again, we all come together to console a fellow dog lover who has lost a beloved member of the family. I hope these words are of some little consolation; perhaps one of these days I might actually be able to do this without having my vision blurred by tears:

 

I lost a treasured friend today,

The little dog who used to lay

Her gentle head upon my knee

And share her silent thoughts with me...

 

She'll come no longer to my call,

Retrieve no more her favorite ball;

A voice far greater than my own

Has called her to His golden throne.

 

Although my eyes are filled with tears,

I thank Him for the happy years

He let her spend down here with me

And for her love and loyalty.

 

When it is time for me to go

And join her there, this much I know...

I shall not fear the transient dark

For she will greet me with her bark.

 

Via con Dios, beloved little girl...

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