05 November 2006
This is my dog Mandy. She passed away in her sleep a few weeks ago. For some reason, I have been thinking about her a lot today. I wasn't able to publish her picture the day I needed to, so I wanted to do that today. She was almost 12 years old (her birthday is Jan. 7). I miss her every day.
She had a sweet temperament and was a real marshmallow, but at the same time, she was more than willing to protect her family. More times than I care to remember, she got between me and my husband, taking kicks and punches that were intended for me.
When we adopted my son, I worried that Mandy would be jealous, as she was getting on in years, but she absorbed him into her "pack" immediately. Mandy was always afraid of the water, but whenever we were at the beach, she was no more than an arms length from Brennan, protecting him from his own fearlessness, slogging through the water at his side, shaking in mortal terror, but never once leaving his side. At home, she always positioned herself between him and the road, and even "herded" him a few times when she got uncomfortable with where he was headed.
Mandy's mother was a beautiful purebred silver Siberian Husky with ice-blue eyes. Her father was the neighbourhood mutt, who was mostly Border collie. The family who owned Mandy's mom had delivered the litter to the local animal shelter to be adopted out, or destroyed. We got Mandy after only four months of marriage, when things were still pretty good between us. The rest of the litter, we found out later, was euthanized because of overcrowding at the animal shelter. If we had been one day later, Mandy would've suffered the same fate. It is no exaggeration when I tell you that I doubt I would've survived my marriage without having her with me. She was my comfort, my physical and emotional security, more times than I care to count.
I could go on and on about my wonderful girl, but no one would want to read it except me, and I have my memories of Mandy to keep her close to my heart. Mandy, baby girl, I will always love you and never forget you. You were the best part of my life for so many years. Such a good, good girl.