Sad Day For Dear Pup
This morning I awoke to check on my dog and find her dead. She was nearly 13 years old and was having health problems, still it was sudden. It's always sudden. But as sad as I am, there is some small comfort that she died in her sleep.
I was never much of a dog person, especially big dogs. I grew up with cats. But Fuu was a small fluffy dog, the sweetest tempered little girl you ever met. I wouldn't even describe her as a princess, she was too humble for that. She was always happy to meet new people, and everyone she met adored her. I believe she was certainly the best connected dog in anime fandom. Everyone we met wanted to take her home.
We got her as newlyweds. I didn't have a job at the time, so we went looking for a pet somewhat as company for me in a new town. We kept going back to the same pet store to look at her several times before we gave in and brought her home. She was so tiny then. We called her 'foot puppy' sometimes for her tendency to stay near your feet. She was just about the same size as a foot too. I cherish the picture we have of her as a tiny pup by my foot in the kitchen of our first apartment.
She grew, but was still a little sheltie. All fluffy white, brown and adorable. She was always the puppy, no matter how old she was. Always sweet tempered, docile and happy to cuddle with you. She would be the Yamato Nadeshiko of dogs. Oh she had her odd quirks. She insisted on barking at thunder and the hairdryer. And the oven door and tinfoil when she was younger... She was vigilant at defending the yard from squirrels. She'd bark to be let out and go running across the back yard to the left corner of the fence to go bark at the squirrel interlopers till they fled into the trees, chittering angrily. She'd even perk up at the word 'squirrel.' But, while squirrels she would not abide, she got on well with other dogs and cats. Tho I never fully trusted big dogs around her after we got a scare one time on a walk. She was so well trained, we could go out in the front yard without a leash, and I never had to worry about her running into the street. She'd regularly trot along with Greg to go get the mail just up the street, unfettered.
Sometimes Greg and I would look at sheltie calenders and agree that none of them were as cute as Fuu. When I found what would become my kitten, we somewhat divided camps. The cat was most definitely mine and Fuu was Greg's. Course I liked Fuu more than Greg liked the cat, but the animals knew who their main person was. Now I wish I'd cuddled Fuu more, even if her fur wasn't as silky at cat fur. But we had our moments together and I often petted her. Sometimes she would insist on attention. She'd stand next to your chair or by the side of the bed and give her little 'burf.' More of a rush of air than and actual bark, it was her polite way of telling you it was time to pay attention to the puppy, because she wanted something. Only if you ignored her long enough would her little berfs become an actual bark. Always the polite little miss.
We had a thousand pet name for our little Fuusie. Greg was particularly fond of making up on the spot silly songs about the puppy.
Sitting here, it's hard to believe I won't look up and see her lounging on the floor. As the days go on, it will seem strange that there's no bark telling me Greg's home, or go out the door for work without a flurry of barking. Having her to let me know if anything was going on around the house was comforting. She was a dear, sweet dog, the likes I doubt I'll ever see again. At least on this world.
I love you, sweet baby girl. My Fuu. Your time with us is cherished and will never be forgotten. October 1999 - June 30, 2012. We loved every minute.
I was never much of a dog person, especially big dogs. I grew up with cats. But Fuu was a small fluffy dog, the sweetest tempered little girl you ever met. I wouldn't even describe her as a princess, she was too humble for that. She was always happy to meet new people, and everyone she met adored her. I believe she was certainly the best connected dog in anime fandom. Everyone we met wanted to take her home.
We got her as newlyweds. I didn't have a job at the time, so we went looking for a pet somewhat as company for me in a new town. We kept going back to the same pet store to look at her several times before we gave in and brought her home. She was so tiny then. We called her 'foot puppy' sometimes for her tendency to stay near your feet. She was just about the same size as a foot too. I cherish the picture we have of her as a tiny pup by my foot in the kitchen of our first apartment.
She grew, but was still a little sheltie. All fluffy white, brown and adorable. She was always the puppy, no matter how old she was. Always sweet tempered, docile and happy to cuddle with you. She would be the Yamato Nadeshiko of dogs. Oh she had her odd quirks. She insisted on barking at thunder and the hairdryer. And the oven door and tinfoil when she was younger... She was vigilant at defending the yard from squirrels. She'd bark to be let out and go running across the back yard to the left corner of the fence to go bark at the squirrel interlopers till they fled into the trees, chittering angrily. She'd even perk up at the word 'squirrel.' But, while squirrels she would not abide, she got on well with other dogs and cats. Tho I never fully trusted big dogs around her after we got a scare one time on a walk. She was so well trained, we could go out in the front yard without a leash, and I never had to worry about her running into the street. She'd regularly trot along with Greg to go get the mail just up the street, unfettered.
Sometimes Greg and I would look at sheltie calenders and agree that none of them were as cute as Fuu. When I found what would become my kitten, we somewhat divided camps. The cat was most definitely mine and Fuu was Greg's. Course I liked Fuu more than Greg liked the cat, but the animals knew who their main person was. Now I wish I'd cuddled Fuu more, even if her fur wasn't as silky at cat fur. But we had our moments together and I often petted her. Sometimes she would insist on attention. She'd stand next to your chair or by the side of the bed and give her little 'burf.' More of a rush of air than and actual bark, it was her polite way of telling you it was time to pay attention to the puppy, because she wanted something. Only if you ignored her long enough would her little berfs become an actual bark. Always the polite little miss.
We had a thousand pet name for our little Fuusie. Greg was particularly fond of making up on the spot silly songs about the puppy.
Sitting here, it's hard to believe I won't look up and see her lounging on the floor. As the days go on, it will seem strange that there's no bark telling me Greg's home, or go out the door for work without a flurry of barking. Having her to let me know if anything was going on around the house was comforting. She was a dear, sweet dog, the likes I doubt I'll ever see again. At least on this world.
I love you, sweet baby girl. My Fuu. Your time with us is cherished and will never be forgotten. October 1999 - June 30, 2012. We loved every minute.