Remembering Crow

Last night our friends Christy and Sue took us out to dinner. As usual, we had a wonderful time. Laughing, talking, more laughing, enjoying food together. The laughter always feels so good. In the course of the conversation Sue told a story of her daughter, Andrea's, puppy getting out of the fence and running down the block. It was a funny story, but also a scary one.

While listening to how the dog ran away from and then chased Andrea, I was reminded of Crow and how she loved to bolt out doors or fences and run. I learned early that if Crow could see me she would keep running. As long as she could hear my voice or see me she felt safe enough to keep going. One time she got away from a friend of mine who let her out the door and watched in horror as she ran down the street. My friend ran after her, and ran after her and ran after her. By the time I got in the car and searched the neighborhood for them they were 1/2 a mile away and both exhausted.
I adored Crow. She was sweet, sleek, beautiful. She was, even at almost aged 10, playful as a puppy. I always felt safe with Crow. I felt safe with her and how she felt toward me and I felt safe in the world with her by my side. She was a good friend, a good pet.

A month before Crow's 10th birthday she got out of our fence and went through a hole in another fence onto a very busy street where I live. She was killed on that road on February 17th, 2004. I still miss her so much.

I have other little buddies now. Noodles, a/k/a dachshunds. Frankye and I have 3 of them. An old girl named Alice, and 2 young boys named Ben and Yeshe. They are the cutest little dogs. They're playful and loving and fun to watch. They can be maddeningly stubborn if you're stuck on having it your own way. In that way they are an exercise in patience and live and let live. I love them. Different than I loved Crow, but I love them all the same.