I posted a blog on heart dogs -- Mark sent me a picture of his heart dog, Fly. Here's what he wrote:
"This is Fly. Alisa would tell you
he was one of her two heart dogs (Pudgie being the other one). He was also my
heart dog. Fly was born the runt of the litter, and he was tiny for a Shih Tzu. During the time I knew him, he went from having little vision to being
completely blind. Outdoors, he was vulnerable and uncertain of himself. Indoors,
he was confident and ruled the house. He frequently stole all of the toys and
lay on top of them in his "nest" (dog bed). Fly always wanted to know where we
were. He'd sometimes wander down the hallway, bumping into walls, just to find
us. Then he'd "magically" disappear again, like a Ninja, back to the living
room.
When Fly died in 2011, I cried
off and on for over a year. He'd burrowed into my heart, and then he broke it
into tiny pieces."
Pudgie was one of our PVPC foster dogs. Mark and Alisa fostered him and they fell in love. Mark said Pudgie wasn't the "smartest cookie in the jaw" (I know all about having dogs like that!). Mark also said, "We love how excited you become when you think it's time to go outside. How, when
we say, "Do you want to go outside?," you make a throaty sound that reminds me
(unfortunately) of the Hamburglar. We love how you race to us outside, and how,
whether we're gone five hours or two minutes, you bark and leap on us as though
we spent a year sailing around the Horn of Africa. And we love the look of
complete, open trust in your eye."
I had to include Schmoo, too. Mark and Alisa also fostered Schmoo. Schmoo was a very special boy. He came to us from a shelter and we were told he was missing his last vertebrae. He didn't have a tail and we found out that he had no bowel control. He needed a special place. Mark wrote, "Schmoo, Schmoofus, McDoofus, you are a clueless
nut, and we love it. You lie on the back of the sofa and stare out at our
street, keeping track of the comings and goings of the letter carrier, cars,
birds, and anyone who might come to the door and give you belly rubs. Oh yes,
belly rubs. That's your lingua franca. "Talk to the belly, 'cause the ears
aren't listening," you say. You would happily stay in place for hours if belly
rubs were happening. We love how blankets are your catnip. In the evening, when
we lie down on the couch and reach for the blanket, you zoom over and leap onto
our sides. The striped blanket is your favorite. We love your irrepressible
happiness. You are full of bouncy springs, which send you boing boing boing down
the stairs and across the floor. Nothing keeps you down."
I couldn't write as well as Mark in describing his heart dogs-- I love it. Pudgie and Schmoo are still there, still being loved, still living an amazing life!!
