Not to be a downer today but I made the mistake of watching the movie Marley and Me last Friday night. I cried. I’m sure it makes everyone who’s ever loved a dog cry. And laugh. Don’t know if I’m brave enough to read the book. Anyway, this is not Marley. This is Ernie.
Ernie was my dog for eleven years. He was like Marley. He weighed 100 lbs., chewed my furniture, thought he was a lap dog. Several months ago, he developed a membrane of blood around his heart and there wasn’t really much the doctors could do to relieve him or extend his life. It was a horrible decision to make but we decided to put him down. I miss that dog. I miss how he came strolling out of the garage every time I pulled in. I miss how he casually barked at the back door when he wanted to come in or if I didn’t feed him right on time. I miss the way he would sneak his head under my hand to solicit a pat.
Anyway, life does go on. Two days after Ernie was gone I got an email from a friend at church who had a couple of puppies abandoned on her doorstep. We took one of them home. So far, he’s completely ruined all my deck furniture. He’s chewed my kitchen table. Eaten through the rungs on my deck. Outgrown two kennels. Stolen numerous pizzas, cheese bread, hot dogs, and other items from the kitchen counter. But he’s great with the kids and although a bit skiddish, a very sweet puppy. His name is Bear. He’s not Ernie. But he’s part of our family.