Tattered and Torn

Tattered and torn is my heart today. My beloved Chow has gone on to doggy heaven. It was sudden, unexpected and shocking.

Chow's carry a bit of a reputation, if you will. But our Gordo was the sweetest dog. We referred to him as the land manatee, just hanging around, taking up space. He LOVED the girls and carried a particular fondness for Amelia that often surprised me. There were a few times that I found him in her bedroom, sitting or lying beside her bed. You see, she was upset and I had failed to respond in what Amelia believed was an appropriate amount of time. Therefore, she was taking a fit and Gordo didn't care for her crying.

I'll miss his silly face, smushed into the ground as he slept in my bathroom. I'll miss his head popping up around the daylilies when he hears me pull in. I'll miss watching him through the front window as he would stand up and watch Matthew drive by the house, turn around and park his truck in front of the house. The boys thought he was a little goofy, but he recognizes their trucks~smarter than what they think! I'll miss him following me through the house during a thunderstorm because the crack of thunder startled him. I'll miss him lying at my feet in the evening, when everyone else was asleep and I was catching up on my favorite shows. I'll miss Steve telling me how he would fret for me when I was traveling. Steve would often say that "Gordo is stuck up my behind!". I'll miss hearing the back door slam as he would push his way out onto the back porch to check out the back yard. I'll miss the little kids in our neighborhood squeal in delight at the "Lion Dog" sitting in the driveway. I'll miss the way he would cock his head to the side when I would say "Gordo, you want a cookie?" I'll miss him sitting beside me at the kitchen table waiting for a morsel to savor since he got very few! I'll miss him lying on the kitchen floor, staring at his food bowl because he was hungry~no barking, just staring! I'll miss the phone call from home asking if I fed him or not since he was begging at his food bowl again. I'll miss the neighbors laughing because he would hike his leg on my flowers (another passion of mine). I'll miss the occasionaly "passer-by" ask, "What kind of dog is that? He sure is beautiful!" I'll miss the way he would jump on my sister whenever she would come over, often scratching and bruising her. So often, he would surprise us with his sudden bursts of energy. I'll miss him running to the front door, full out (which wasn't much), when I walked back from the mail box, slide across the front porch, then turn and run back towards me often knocking me down. I'll miss scratching him under his chin and watching him try to stretch his head a little higher so I can scratch in a different spot. Mostly, I'll miss seeing him sitting in the front yard, with his majestic head held high, watching over his kingdom. I referred to him as "The Emperor of Cherry Lane Farm" (self-proclaimed).

He was beautiful, loving, sweet and he was mine. He loved me best and everyone knew he was my dog. My heart literally ached as I held him and felt his last breath leave his body. I've held several of my dogs while they left this world, but his departure has hurt me the most. Maybe because of the suddenness~I'm not sure. The ache returns everyday when I automatically think, "Is Gordo inside or outside?" "Did Tucker feed him before he left for school?" So many things that were just a part of the daily routine around the Wells' Ranch involved Gordie.

I've had a bit of a reprieve since we are traveling to St. Louis for Amelia right now. But I dread returning home and not seeing his mug looking at me when I drive in and then that "tail wiggle" that he was famous for. Now there are things to clean up that I will no longer need and I'm not sure how to do that. But when I return, I'll clean the slobber from the walls and the floor one more time. I'll vacuum up all the lose hair and give the dog food and cookies away. Then one final "pooper scoop" around the yard. Oh Gordie, what will I do without you??? I'd rather clean the slobber and scoop the yard than yearn for you the way I am. I doubt the tears and heart ache will end anytime soon. It seems he was a bigger part of me than I ever realized.

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