Missing Honey Today

Today I miss Honey a LOT. I miss her breath coming out her nose the most. It reminded me she was alive - that I was alive. She could talk with her nose. She could nudge me in a playful way when I was down. She could touch me with her nose to let me know she's ready to go to sleep. She could smell ANYTHING - even my peanut butter cookie in my purse that I tried to hide from her! She could smell another dog a MILE away. I wrote a letter to her right before she crossed over on November 17th, 2008. I read it again today. Here it is:


Honey,

I love you and I know you love me. I know you've grown to love Savannah and Camille too. I know you love and have easily forgiven Sean. When Sean brought you home nearly 12 years ago, I was not ready to be a dog Mom. However, I fell in love with you right away. I've been your protector and defender for so long. I've fed you. I gave you water to drink. I took you to the vet for shots, to remove a nail that accidently went into your leg, to get shots for the hives, 2 ear hematoma surgeries, to be spade, etc. When others thought I was crazy to live with a pit bull I passionately spoke up for you. When people including my parents thought I was irresponsible to have a pit bull with my newborn babies, I kept you and continued to love and take care of you the best I could. When people gave me mean looks when I walked you, I looked the other way. I walked you. I kissed you. I didn't take trips because I didn't want you to have to go to a shelter. You've slept in my bed with me for nearly 12 years now. I bought huge crates so you won't be cramped. You've rarely gone in the crate for many years now. When you chewed up ALL my comforters, I just bought new ones. I bought you tons of cookies as treats. I bought you real bones for you to use your adorable but powerful jaw on. I fought to keep you when the pit bull ban threatened to destroy you. I fought against the state, Sean, society, friends and the media.

I just wish I could have walked you more. I know you love that. I wish I could have taken you more places to see. The biggest regret I have is I wish you could have had a dog friend to spend the day with while I was at work. I didn't know pit bulls could play with other dogs. I'm really sorry about that.

You have lived in many places with me. You first came to live with us in West Hyattsville. I often wonder if you remember that place. You were just a puppy. You had SO much energy. Then we moved to our first home in Bowie. Remember that one? You loved the backyard. I love to think of you resting in the sun out back and sitting on the couch looking at the window and scratching the paint off the front window when a dog went by. We took you to that West Virginia cabin. Remember that place? You LOVED it there. Then we moved to Annapolis - finally you were legal but we were in an apartment. It wasn't easy finding a place that would take you. At least you were walked a LOT. Remember those long walks? I do. I always will. And now you're back with me in Bowie with another backyard. I promised you another backyard and we did. You were there with me for so many fun and difficult times in my life.

Now you have arithitis. You don't walk the same. The bone in your back sticks out more. You have this black growth on your leg. Your poor ears have had it. One infection after another. I clean them out. I put antibiotic cream in there. It clears up and then it comes right back. I can tell you're tired of them too. I know you're in pain sometimes because of the ears. You scratch until they bleed sometimes. Sometimes you don't get up to meet me at the door when I come home now. It's too much effort so you sleep on the couch so you don't have to do the stairs. At nighttime it's so hard for you to come up stairs to get into bed and it's really hard to get up in the morning to go outside to go to the bathroom. I just know it's time.

Now I have dreams of you going to a place where you don't have to take your time to get up. You can run freely again. Your ears don't bother you at all. They are back to the way they used to look - cute and floppy. That ugly growth isn't there. You even have a friend to play with. That's what I want for you - to be happy. Don't worry about me. Just look for me when I cross over one day. I'll look for you. Remember I'll always love you.