How did a teeny-weeny monster tomboy mamadog who was so supercharged on a leash I needed both hands to hold on turn out to be the gentle mama to all of us at The Grey Lodge? You ran like crazy, jumped, barked, whined, "talked", put your toes in the water dish and flew thru the air with the greatest of ease as you lept across the floor and onto the bed before breakfast and dinner and anytime I even thought about sleeping past 5:30 a.m. But most of all you helped me thru the best of times and the worst of times. You licked away my tears and you chattered in my ear as we shared our secrets. When you put your head on my shoulder and snuggled your nose into my neck, I cuddled your soft as velvet fur and knew that our world was a good and happy place.
You were made of so much good stuff ~ from your puppy ears, to your forever young face, to the "white spats" on your toes, to your joie de vivre to your pure & kind heart ~ that when we met Dove & Crystal and saw so much of you in them we knew that if we ever found another of your puppies, they would join the tribe. Of course Olga is nothing like you, but deep down she has your heart and she has your soul and she is very special. You were a good mamadog.
This was not the day we wanted to say goodbye. In truth, no day would have been the right day yet life has a way of changing things. Some things just have to be. The day's joy is now mingled with sadness but they are just dates and dates do not make up a beautiful life. Today will forever be Pistol Day and you will be remembered with joy. You and your beige bunny romp with the Better Angels of our tribe and Winston & Buggle. You keep a close watch over Harley (he loved you lots) and do your best to to get Nutmeg to play (but she will just look at you like you're silly) and give Sharon a kiss.
Pistol. Pistolina. Teeny Weeny Pistoliny. Pissy (how I swore I would NEVER call you that). Our time with you was a blessing. You are forever loved.
7.14.2002 ~ 6.14.2013