Monday, 1 December 2008

A Sweet Fly Story

It's been two weeks now since Fly left us. I still keep expecting him to be waiting in the driveway when I pull up and there is always that moment of disappointment when I remember that he won't be.

Cricket is doing a fine job as a solo yard dog, although I think she is exhausted. I've tried to convince her that she need not patrol everything within a mile radius of the house, that just the yard is all I care about, but she still charges off into the woods anytime a coyote howls anywhere even vaguely near the house. Crazy dog.

She is still in the market for a new BFF. She's approached Kara, but Kara simply looked at her as if she was crazy. A couple days ago I was chatting on the phone when Cricket went roaring by the window. In hot pursuit of her was Bait. Remember Cricket weighs about 120 lbs - Bait maybe 15. Rather pathetic. I think maybe she had asked him to be her new best friend.

Anyway, many of you have taken the time to share 'Fly stories' with us and I thank you all. They have all brought smiles to our faces, but none more so then the one sent to us by our niece, Corrine through her Dad. Brian emailed -

"The other day, Corrine told me a story about Fly that warmed my heart. She said that she was out picking flowers out in the woods at your place so you and she could dry them. Once she had enough and ready to go back to your house, she realized that she wasn't sure which was the right way to go. So she told Fly to go home and followed him. Corrine said that Fly would run ahead and then come back to make sure she was coming and then run ahead again...and did this until they were both back and sound. Something she will remember forever."

Hopefully by the next time Corrine comes to visit Cricket will be settled into her job well enough that I can send her out in the woods to flower pick with Corrine, but then again, knowing Cricket, maybe not. Maybe Bait can go with her to protect her.


1 comment:

Sandy Weaver Carman said...

Thank you for the very sweet story, Karen. Our dogs never live long enough in their physical bodies, but their footprints last forever on the hearts they touch while here.