Annie, my Mom, arrived to take me with her one day. I could sense she was a smidgen uncertain but she is a sensitive one and alert to things not readily visible. She knew we needed each other, thus Annie became my Mom.
Some obituaries are lengthy. I've read many in my previous life. Bow Wow... who cares where you attended obedience school and graduated magna cum laude and then became the Master of the Chow Pound? Truly, what is the earthly significance of such? Moving along here rather quickly as I know some of you readers have a wee span of attention, like Pomeranians. I'll cut to the dog chase here. I've lived a life worth living. Annie, my Mom, was also my heart and I knew hers belonged to me. We traveled together, walked the woods, and shared the morning yogurt. Her song is in my bones. Just today I heard Annie say, "good morning Enya" to me. I reciprocate.
Thank you my canine and human friends for the pleasure of meeting you and sniffing around. I am well and moving along with my nose on the trail.
Adios for now,