A good bye to gorgeous!

At different times in this blog I have referred to the little Red head.  On occasion I would refer to her as Brandy.  She was a miniature poodle, apricot in color, that came to live with us several years ago as a foster dog.  She never left.


When she came to live with us, the animal shelter had given her the name Jezebel.  Carol and I were both in agreement, that wasn't a proper name for her.


She was full of energy and cute as a button.  She didn't like men though.  The people at the shelter thought she might have been abused by a man at some point.


She was captured by animal control on Judge Ely Boulevard in East Abilene.  It wasn't a fair fight.  When she was apprehended she had her head in a McDonald's sack.  Speculation was rampant that she had either run away from a vehicle when they stopped in Abilene, or possibly her owner had died and she had either been released by the family or she escaped.


Either way, she was on her on.


She was extremely smart, already house broken, and she fit in quickly with the other hounds, although she was the runt.  Abilene ordinances called for a maximum of 3 dogs at a residence, well, at times we had five.


I could be sitting in my recliner with my shoes and socks off and she would run by, then back up just to nip at my toes until they bled.


It was a slow process for her to warm up to me, but eventually she did.  Finally she found her favorite spot was to sit beside me in my recliner or on the arm of it and rock.  In bed she loved to push against me until I would roll away slightly, then she would cuddle closely as I rolled slightly back toward her.  I guess it was a puppy "dog pile" kind of a thing.


She didn't travel well in a vehicle, so I kind of discounted the theory that she escaped while traveling through Abilene.  Eventually however, she became a great traveler.  In fact she got where some days she would cry to go with me and if she say a suitcase she would go into mourning.


Eventually she became the head hound of the house.  As the black dogs dies off and when Brandy migrated to me, Carol brought in Phooey, the miniature Spitz.  Eventually The Jack Russell, Pomeranian mix pup, Eville came and they were like the three musketeers.


Everything was always a contest, and position and posturing were everything.


I use to laugh at Kathryn when we talked about names that we should have considered for Brandy.  Kathryn was partial to Lucy (after Lucille Ball), other possibilities were Penney or Copper.


Brandy was a blessing.  She was gorgeous inside and out.  One of the most difficult things in the divorce was letting Carol keep all three dogs.  If I had been selfish I would have held out for Brandy, but then I knew how much the three dogs loved each other, and I walked away.


But every time I stopped by after the divorce, Brandy was the first to come to me wanting me to pick her up.  Somehow, someway, I think she understood.  On a selfish note I guess the divorce conditioned me to a certain extent, but now I have lost her twice.


Brandy died Friday from acute renal failure due to age.


So long you gorgeous little red head.  I love you!


FATHER, thank YOU for blessing my life with this precious dog.  I can only hope I was as big a blessing to her.  Take good care of her.