On the two and a half year anniversary of my
husband Kirt’s death, I’ve lost my beautiful Border Collie, Dominic, Dominic
Perignon. And I thought 2016 would bring healing.
I’m
lonely, so I’ve writtten to single men on a friend finder line. All I can say is
if I’d buried my husband, I’d be crawling in next to him before I deal with any
more slicksters telling me how beautiful I am and our love is written in the
stars.
Dominic
got dumped at the bottom of my drive early last spring. He hid in the weeds,
when I came to get him with a towel. I always wrap new babies and give them a
bath welcome to Sato Hill. Black coat, flashy white paws, and perfectly folded
ears; he had me before his feet hit the ground. I cooed sweetly to my heart
throb; instantly he Velcro’ed himself to my leg, my scared little boy.
In
the eight months Dominic lived here, puppy to young adult he matured into a
crewe member, even Blondie went hunting with him. Dominic was full of himself
in all of the ways young boys push and test boundaries. He thought he was the
smartest in the room, which annoyed Chi-Ping, and me upon occasion.
From
clingy to challenging I gave him what he needed to mature into a great dog, a companion. My darling boy, who chose to sleep outside was wanting
in at night again; patience paid off.
Whoever
took him, I pray they give him a good home. This hurts because I don’t believe
that many dogs on this island get good homes. Tied in between house and garage
is not a good life.
At
least I gave Dominic eights months of a wonderful life. I enjoyed getting to
know him. LOVE.
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