Dear Sweet Merlin,
The first day we met, you were still a puppy, you got so excited you peed on my ankle. Who could possibly get upset by that after taking one look at your gorgeous face. You were sorry, and a bit embarrassed too. We laughed it off together. :-)
Your soulful eyes could melt any heart, and often did.
In the beginning I would spend weekends with you and Bill, and quickly learned that come Monday morning I’d better not look at your eyes if I wanted to be able to leave. You had the most puppy-dog look I’d ever seen, entreating me to please stay.
I will always remember how excited you were when we finally got all moved in, and you realized we were all going to live together.
There was one day, and I promised you, I will never forget. I was so sick, some stomach flu/virus/something. Bill was not home. But you faithfully followed me from the bed through the living room to the bathroom, where you waited patiently outside the door. Then from bathroom back to the bed where you stayed with me. You made that trip back-and-forth with me as many times as I needed, my nurse and constant companion.
You were a most well traveled dog, and traveled well you did too. You were back & forth across the US more times that most humans I know. Always so good, always up for anything, you loved every minute… well, maybe except for the desert… and boats. You were a landlubber for sure.
The first time I ever went camping was with you & Bill. We went camping along the Delaware River where we took that now infamous canoe trip. You hated being in that canoe so much, you just wanted to get out and swim for shore. You did so several times and we tipped over into the drink each time. While we waited for the bus to take us back to the campground, we saw your butt up in the air above the tall reeds, tail flying back and forth. You had found a dead fish, which you decided was the perfect cologne. You were so proud and happy to have made this discovery. After several baths it was pretty much forgotten by us, except that it sure makes a funny story. Guess you knew what you were doing after all.
You would get so upset if the pack wasn’t together all the time on vacation. If Bill went into the convenience store while we sat in the car you were inconsolable, and it was the same if I went in and he stayed with you. You just so wanted to be with us, and I guess that’s what pulled you through these last few months. I realized tonight that I hadn’t seen you wag your tail in so very long, and you always did, you always were so happy. I guess you just couldn’t spare the energy needed for that.
I’m so grateful to have been able to share 15.5 of your 16.5 years with you. I hope to meet up with you at the Rainbow Bridge one day, I will miss you every day until that moment.
People always asked us what kind of dog you were, and we always said (and will always say) the plain truth — One Hundred Percent Good Dog.
Love you baby.