Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Pinky by Kate

Pinky was a special dog.
He couldn't catch a treat no matter how
close it was. He could hear a spoon clink from across the house as I finished my ice cream. He loved to lick out the last drop. I will always think of you when I am scrapping the bottom of my bowl or cup.

Pinky was strikingly handsome and unusual looking. He was an albino Doberman. He was playful, but always a little insecure. At nine years old he would still chew holes in any fleece material he could find; several blankets, couch pillows, my robe. I always thought he just liked the way it felt in his teeth. Or maybe it was just another manifestation of his insecurity
He took the job as my protector very seriously. I loved how he would always lay facing the door, or in the "choke point" as Steve called it. Mr. Pinkerton on the job.
He loved to run in the woods and bark forever at critters he treed. Pinky wasn't always as brave as he wanted to be (Remember when he had to be rescued from a couple of big raccoons on the trail by a Bullmastiff?) He was a good rabbit hunter though and fed himself when he was on his own.
Boy, could he make his teeth chatter!
You picked us as your family. You were in pretty rough shape when you first got here. But you blossomed into such a handsome guy.

You were different than all the rest.
You tried so hard. You gave the best hugs.
Thank you Pinky, .t was a good run. I'm going to miss you.
I know we will meet up together again.


R.I.P. Pink
see The Legend of Ghost Dog

R.I.P. Pink

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