Roxy , one of Gerdy s rescued souls has passed away at the ripe old age of 17… that makes the old gal a centenarian for her breed!

She entered our lives at an old age but with still so plenty of life and love left in her… she had a bleak, rough start to life, but to her credit she managed to remain a simple , loving , giving soul….

She was diagnosed with spinal myelopathy more than 3 yrs ago..
She outlived, by a wide margin her diagnostic expectancy , with grace , elegance and a stoic disposition of gratefulness.

And thus we were blessed with her presence for quite a few more seasons than we felt we would be granted , for that I will be eternally grateful!

But the loss is no less great for that fact I would gladly have traded some of my years to give her more.

But now … every missing 5 am bark , requesting a feeding…every missing sheepish look and wag of the tail, when her *master* obeys the call… ( master my ass , she was the princess and I,the adoring steward).

Every sideway glance , the ears , of a size of more suited to a moose than a mid size german shepherd, standing straight up as if trying to receive a message from outer space.

The curling of the toes, with the demure wag of tail when given a loving touch…the smile , in anticipation of any simple joy…all of the above are missing and yet , all of these, and more, are omnipresent in my home, in my heart and soul and in every moment of daily life… except now it is not her, but her ghost.

This profound sense of loss and grief will eventually be replaced with fondness and gratitude for all she offered and was.

Every dog I have shared my life with, has provided me with examples of nobility and a template of what it is to be angelic.

Roxy adopted as her own a 6 pound Chihuahua named Chico ….this little guy got away with everything…hanging from her lips while play fighting.

Roxy would bite his twig like legs in her huge jaws, as if his legs were made of spun sugar and could break with the wind generated by the wings of a butterfly.

Roxy would put his whole head in her mouth and Chico would just think this was a riot… Chico would hyperventilate when i left the house to walk Roxy, and only settle down once she returned.

If angels took earthly form, it would be as Roxy and all Dogs, by all metrics, they are as pure as can be.

For now, Chico stares at the door and waits for Roxy to come back…he glances at her bed and wonders why she is not there.

He smells her in the air and feels her in his soul, and wonders why she is not here…

He whimpers a bit , every now and then, and howls at 5 am when Roxy’s expected presence is not forthcoming.

For now, Chico and I have more in common than I have with the rest of my existence.

We are mourning Roxy and trying to come to grip with her ghost.

Time will do its job…but for now we grieve.

She will be missed and never forgotten.