Rest in peace, faithful friend

A little before 3 a.m. today, we lost a very dear and very faithful friend. Andy, our 15 year old dog, passed away. We called him "Bubba" as often as we called him "Andy," but we hope he hears our hearts calling out to him this morning. He certainly touched ours and always in a big way.

Andy was Sandy's faithful companion from the time he was a few weeks old. Sandy sometimes called him her "WalMart dog." She adopted him as a barely weaned pup 15 years ago from someone sitting in front of a WalMart store with the litter, offering them free to good homes. She didn't grab him up at first, but he had sure grabbed onto her. She went on in to shop and while doing so decided that if those puppies were still there when she went back out she'd take one home. As she left the store, there was one pup left. She named him Andy because of Dolly Pardon's song "Me and Little Andy" (you may recall it's about a little girl named Sandy and her little dog, Andy.)

Sandy and Andy came into my life in the last three years. Andy was not friendly with strangers. For the first three months we were together, he was determined to let me know it. He even broke his cable one day and made his marks on me. But within a few weeks of that day, we became buddies. From that day forward, you would have thought we had been lifelong friends. He was still very much "Mama's baby boy," always elated when she was within eyesight of him, but he always tried to let me know in his own ways that he was a "Daddy's boy," too.

I find myself thinking about my friend Andy Andrews' comments about their dalmation, Lucy, who passed not very long ago. I think about him figuring out once that if he'd treat his wife as good as the dog treated his wife, maybe his wife would treat him as good as she did the dog. Thinking about that makes me laugh on one hand, and very sad now on the other, as I know how faithful and loving a companion Andy has been to Sandy. I made little Andy a promise a long time ago that I would take very good care of his human mommy. I think that's partly why we made such good friends -- much to the surprise of a lot of people. Dogs have a sense about such things. I also reminded him of that promise in the wee hours of this, Andy's last morning with us. Perhaps that let him go in peace, knowing that I want to be no less faithful a companion to Sandy for the rest of our time on this Earth.

Bubba, thank you for the love you showed us all. I will never forget our adventures. The first time you stole your mama's sweet, iced tea -- which she didn't even know until then that you would drink. The first time you jumped up in the swing to your mommy's surprise. Seeing you lounging on top of the picnic table on muggy Summer nights, trying to catch a little breeze. Discovering that you'd dug up the topsoil and grass seeds (again, and again) faster than I could fill the hole and start over. Seeing you play with the water in your kiddy pool, splashing the water out of it so that you could chase the little stream across the yard. Then managing to flip the pool over once you'd emptied it and seeing a blue, plastic pool moving around the yard with four black feet sticking out from underneath like a big, blue, headless turtle.

It's time for you to have even more adventures now. Without arthritis, tether cables, or even fences. You are free. You deserve to be playing like a healthy young pup again. You deserve an eternity filled with joy and happiness -- the very things you so faithfully gave us without judgment or conditions.

Andy, you are possibly the greatest example of love we have ever seen. You will live on in our hearts and memories for eternity. You are already missed, as our tears and pain no doubt speak for themselves.

With love,
The family that loves and misses you with all our hearts.
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