Mamma's Little Baby

It's a very sad day in the Thomas home today. This morning, Blanche, our little dog, passed away. She was getting sicker all week, and last night she couldn't breathe. Blanchie had congestive heart failure, so in the ultimate display of love, my parents let her go. She was surrounded by my brother and my parents and was cradled as she left us. Blanche's loss is leaving a big hole in our lives already.

She was a spunky little dog with a boat-load of attitude. I know when I go home, we will all sit around telling Boo Boo stories for hours. Like when she used to sleep on my bed. Her tiny chin would be on my ankle while I read. If I moved an inch, she would lift her head, narrow her big brown eyes and give an exasperated sigh, as if to say "must we?" If I moved too much, she would jump off the bed, run to the door and glare expectantly at me to get out of my room. I miss her attitude already.

Blanchie was a well-loved dog. From the moment we brought her home, she was the apple of our eyes. Especially my father's. They would go for walks and drives together. When my dad was quitting smoking, he ate jellybeans. So did Blanche. He would bite half a jellybean and give the other half to her. They were buddies. They cuddled in his chair, they napped together, they ate chips together, they were friends. I wish I was home to give my father a hug. He was the brave one who brought her to the vet this morning, and he was the one who showed his love the most by letting her go.

Blanchie was a gift and she brought a gift to our family. She came into our lives at a time when we were all getting older and starting to drift apart. Blanchie brought us together. Blanchie gave us joy and laughter and gave us all a new appreciation for other living beings. The hours of mirth she gave to us will never be forgotten and our hearts will always have her... with her fuzzy neck that smelled like honey, her little paws the size of quarters, the cowlicks on her head and neck, the stripe of reddish fur down her back that stood up when she saw other dogs (how dare they?), that stripe that went white in recent years, those rheumy eyes, and her little dog smile.

Thank you, Blanche, for twelve incredible years. Thank you for the cuddles and companionship, the licks, the stories and the walks. When I walk around the neighbourhood, sadly without your leash, I will always remember how you would stop, put your little paws on my leg and yip, as if thanking me for taking you out for a walk-walk.

Broken-Heartedly Yours,
xoxoSallyS