I was outside with my young dog, Joy, this morning. I was looking at the way her back feathers out to her feet in a lighter shade of brown . . perhaps a tan, and then her feet become almost white. Her back and head itself are a light brown. I’ve seen this shade of brown before. It was on my dog, Honey. She was the first dog I ever had, and she arrived one Christmas Eve when I had just turned ten.
Honey followed me everywhere. We were the best of friends. Everyone who knew me said if you were looking for me, keep your eye out for Honey as well, because we would be together. I loved that dog.
Looking at Joy’s back this morning, I thought about how she was the same color as my Honey dog had been. Although Honey was half Cocker Spaniel and half Rat Terrier, Joy is part Collie and who knows what else? Joy is bigger than Honey was, but she has the same “Wants to be with me all the time” nature.
Those dogs represent bookends of my life. How young I was when I got Honey; how old I am now.
I hope when I die that all the dogs I have ever owned run to greet me. I hope the rainbow bridge has hand rails. Otherwise, I’ll be knocked down by the pack.