...was 'way back on October 4, 1966. She was the most wonderful dog. I first met her when she was about 7-1/2 weeks old, sitting on my mother's lap with a big red bow tied around her neck. I stood there, totally speechless and of course, I cried. She was the cutest thing I'd ever seen, a fuzzy white teddy bear, all wiggles and cuddles.
As time went by, she became Daddy's dog, but she loved the rest of us, too. Greg used to play catch with her out in the front yard, throwing a somewhat-deflated football and she'd leap into the air and catch it like a pro. One day a little girl came by and exclaimed, "Mommy, look at the big white bunny rabbit!" Sheba hadn't quite caught up to her ears at that point.
One of our silly family stories is about when Greg was back east at a friend's house and was calling home. I don't remember if he talked to the dog, or just about the dog, but commented to his friend's family that she looked "like a little white polar bear." The father of Greg's friend said, "Have you ever SEEN a polar bear?" (Eye roll, sigh...) Well, she DID look like a polar bear. I know, because I've seen one. That very serious-minded man would have been sorry, had he known how many times we laughed about him through the years.
As brave as she was, she became very fearful on New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July. We'd left her at home in the garage one Fourth and some local kids teased her by tossing firecrackers at the garage door. She was totally traumatized, tearing up the garage and never got over that fear. We felt so very bad about that. On New Year's, a neighbor up at the lake always set off big dynamite, and that terrified her. She'd dig her paws into the carpet and wouldn't budge, so we got so we'd just sit there with her until it was over.
We only had Sheba a short 10 years, but from day one until her last, she was loyal and true, never failing to watch over us. She brought us such joy, loving us completely and unconditionally. It was a very sad time when we had to say a last goodbye and send her to the Rainbow Bridge. Since then, other beloved pets have gone to join her there. I can't help but think that she was there to meet the folks as they passed over into What Comes Next.
Happy Birthday, Dear Sheba. I still miss you.
Shawn
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photo courtesy of sheprescue.org, "Lobo," looking very much like our Sheba
1 comment:
This is for the previous post: Loved Leon Redbone's song!
October 8 is my birthday, and I'll be 49. Makes me look back on my life and think about what I've accomplished and what I haven't accomplished, since next year it's the half century mark and I want to leave the world better than I found it. Although I'm not planning to leave for a good many years yet.
I'm sure Sheba is with my sheltie Misty, and my cats Robesie, Molly, and Vega, waiting for us to get there and play with them. After Misty died I had a dream about a beautiful place where the sun was always shining and the grass was always green, and there were trees and flowers everywhere. Then, after my sister's dog Ralph, who was Misty's brother, died a couple years later my sister had the same dream, only this time Misty and Ralph were playing fetch with my mom. I had never told her about my dream. Maybe God lifted the curtain just a little and gave us an image of Heaven.
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