I wonder if she grew up to look like a dingo because I named her Cydni. I just liked the name, but since I was a pre-teen, I decided to get real cute with the spelling. And then, of course, regretted that later when the vet would always call her “Cindy,” and I just couldn’t correct him because I knew deep down that it was my fault. J
She was indeed the last one of the litter that hadn’t been
taken by anyone yet. I’m pretty sure they told us she was half-Lab,
half-Pomeranian, but that never quite worked out right in my head. To me, she
was just a crazy dingo. She was brought home without permission from my dad,
but of course, he loved her right away as she melted into his arms in one of
her love-trances. Tanner was her big brother with a curled tail. It didn’t take
long before her tail curled just like his and they were the best of friends.
When Tanner died, she cried and cried, howling outside. It broke by heart. She
missed him.
And now we miss her. She was such a loving dog but in such a
profound, unselfish way. I couldn’t have said it better than my mom – “She never
demanded to be first for love or treats or attention. She was ‘mommy’ to all
the other pets, cleaning their eyes and ears and tending to them with loving
care. She always sat patiently waiting her turn for everything. She was so
grateful.”
Most outside dogs love to come inside, but for most of her
life, you couldn’t have made her an inside dog if you wanted to. She’d quickly
ask to go back outside and enjoy her yard and her buddy/ies. She LOVED to eat
(dead) locusts. J BUT,
she HATED thunderstorms, a problem if you live in Oklahoma! Must’ve been the
lab in her.
She lived such a long life, at times I really wondered if
she was going to break a record or something. I mean, the dog BEAT heartworms
pretty much on her own! Over the years the fur on her face would get a little
whiter, and I knew this day would eventually come. But almost twenty years
makes it that much harder.
She was with us through SO much and always there when I
needed a hug or a friend to talk to who’d just listen. She’d just listen. Even
late at night, she was there. Especially with kisses at the ready. I wonder if
I will ever stop tearing up when I think about her being gone, but I hope I
never stop trying to be like her… always up for anything, even just a sit;
sweet to the bone; caring and motherly to all; unselfish; and so very grateful
for everything.
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