Smithy, 2010-2021

[jedimentat]

Oh Smithy, you leave such a hole in our family, and in my heart. I loved you more than I will ever love most people. 



I loved how smart you were. When I called you, you came right away, unless you really didn't want to. If you were scrapping with another dog in the dog park, and I clapped my hands, you would immediately pull away and look at me. 



You were *so* good on roadtrips. 

I loved your doggie eyelashes, and your softie ears, even if you didn't like when I touched them, but you tolerated it, from me. 

I loved how you took such joy in destroying a plastic frisbee, a plastic hula hoop, and ripping it to shreds while grinning. 




I loved how you checked on my children. 

Who will defend me from snakes? From rats under the grill? Who will help me chase a chicken? Who will watch my back and guard the house, especially on nights when my husband is away on business trips and it's just me, listening to every sound?   I never felt worried when you were around. You weren't the largest dog, but I saw you scrap, and I knew that you would bite an attacker or anyone who ever threatened me. 

When we first adopted you, it was such a dark time. We had just returned from our honeymoon to the chaos of my mom's accident. You were a bright spot. I searched Petfinder as I sat next to a hospital bed.  We even brought you as a tiny puppy to the Kessler, where you visited her outside, you coming up to her wheelchair. Then, we took you to the farm, and Pop poured you your first beer in a small dish. 



You lived in our fourth floor walkup in Hoboken. (Do you know what it's like, to potty train a puppy in a fourth floor walkup?!)  We took you to the park on Pier A, before we knew that dogs weren't allowed in that part of the park.  I was still reeling from being newly unemployed, rejected from the teaching job that I had loved for two years; newly moved to Hoboken, newly dealing with the mom situation, newly entered into a marriage which was a lot different from what I had expected, and trying to figure out what to do next. You were my constant companion. I talked to you all the time, in the apartment and on walks. We walked all over Hoboken every day...we went on 3-4 walks a day, sometimes for an hour or more at a dogpark. I even took you to the laundromat with me.  After your dogpark wrestles with buddies, we washed you in the tiny apartment stall shower.













You were our first kid. So many of our friends loved you. We brought you everywhere, as a young couple, before kids. Brunches, lunches, hikes, parties. You dug a hole in someone's yard once, and chewed through a rope when we were helping a friend move.  You stuck your whole head and upper body into a mudhole to cool off, once, during a hike, and I have never seen a muddier dog. 

You hated fights. When we had verbal spats, you barked insistently, and sometimes muscled your squat body in between us. You didn't mind if I sobbed into your fur. You were so spoiled with toys and treats.  

It was a real adjustment for you when we had children and moved. But you loved the countryside, and looking out of windows, instead of being in an apartment, and getting to move freely off-leash. And when we had Liberty, you loved her so much. You guarded her, you checked on her in the morning, entering her room wagging your tail, and licking her hands through the crib bars. You were so alert to all baby sounds, and made sure I knew when the children were awake from naps.  You recieved endless payoff in terms of dropped food and unfinished food...You were my kitchen buddy; always around when I was cooking, ready to deal with scraps, drops, clean a bowl, a floor, handle the leftovers...











































You were just so smart. You even watched television with us.  I didn't even realize how smart, until we adopted your little brother Porter.  You were getting portly and sedentary, and we thought a little brother would help you exercise and have more fun, and it totally did.  Porter romped with you, and even though he was such an annoying dog sometimes, you were a wonderful brother to him, trying to show him the ropes and how to behave.

















We'll miss you so much. You leave a hole in our family; a hole that I see when I wake up in the morning and you are not downstairs, waiting to greet me; a hole I'll see when I pop the trunk and only load one dog into the car to go to the farm. I'll be catching my eyes scanning for you in our backyard for a long, long time, and hearing the weird absence of your bark and other noises. 

















I knew it was coming. I saw the signs of age, and some failings. I knew it was time. But it is still so sad. 
I believe I will see you again someday.  
I love you. 

Comments

[ed schmid (from livejournal.com)]

Im so sorry Rachel. This tribute was beautiful, and your love for Smithy is apparent