Her name was Abby Gail Summer and she was our beloved pet and friend. We picked her out of a squirming litter of spotted pups one frosty October night 15 years ago while a protective mom and a pride of the fire station daddy looked on. She was a present to my spouse but she loved each of us.
The stories of Abby are legion and legend in my small household and she never had an enemy. She played on the trampoline with the boys, claimed it as her own when they weren't around, she went on vacations with us and she would, when she was younger, bolt for an open fence gate for an unbridled, full speed run whenever the opportunity presented itself. She was a capable and doting mom to two litters of her own spotted pups. She knew when anyone was ill and would sit with you as long as you needed her company to feel better. She was sensitive to Sunday's depression and she let me hug her neck every night when my family moved away, back in 1992.
She was 15 years old, 105 years if you count that 7 years for a dog business and she lived a full life. Her health was slowing down her body but never her spirit- until this week. Finally a damaged spinal cord and a liver tumor took her out of our house.
But she's not out of our lives and she never will be. Tonight she's a young, healthy, happy puppy in the prime of her life, wherever dogs go when their bodies are no good here on earth.
We- I, really miss her right now though.
This picture is from 1996, just before I left for my year in Korea. That's Abby on the right. The other dalmation, Kissy didn't stay with us for very long but went to another family.
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