To Sequoia on her birthday,
Sweet. You’re such a love, a great big dog who doesn’t know her size. She thinks she’s a lap dog, when she looks ferocious, with eyes that say a thousand words… if only you could talk.
Energetic. You love to romp around clumsily, with your “helicopter” tail (the only thing that keeps you balanced on your feet sometimes). When you hear a familiar voice, you come running, and then run past your intended target (even though you really mean to stop… your brakes are a little faulty)
Quiet. Why don’t you bark? Do you know deep down that if you did you might scare people? You just like to come up, sniff, and lay down for a belly rub. We used to joke that our guard dog would just watch a burglar steal all of our stuff, and maybe hope to get a pet on the noggin.
Useful. Maybe you aren’t a work dog, not a herder, or a carrier, or even a ratter, but you sure do come to comfort. You see or hear hurt hearts and you come running to the rescue. You are an expert sympathizer, it’s like you know how to take the hurt on yourself, and it’s seen in your droopy eyes. You just want to make everything all better. And you usually do.
Original. You’re a bit smaller than the breed standard, with more energy than the breed calls for. We can take you for jogs, bike rides, hikes, and you rarely tire. You are the only dog I know who gets more human food than dog food, as you seem to just be another member of the family, a daughter of sorts.
Intellegent. The day you stopped eating pepperoni because you thought there might be medication in it, I realized you’re no dummy. You know exactly what’s going on… I think you knew we were getting ready to leave you. I think you prepared yourself for that day. I think you knew when we moved out of the apartment and into the camper, something in life was changing dramatically. And you are a survivor and a lover… you choose to love and thrive.
Always in our hearts. Out of everything we’ve left behind, the hardest part was leaving you. If only we had enough room in our backpacks. And we never want to leave you this long again. But we know that you also know that God’s will is far above our own. I think dogs understand God way more than we do, and they understand who they are and their purpose more than we ever will.
