Once upon a time, a young woman traveled to Chicago to bring home a puppy. But, this puppy was not just any plain and ordinary puppy. This puppy was special. . . to the young woman this puppy was the world.
Isn't this how all dog stories start? Every dog is the smartest, prettiest, brightest, fastest dog the world has ever seen. Some are purebred and pedigreed, some are, by definition, mutts. But, with the love of their owners, all dogs are special.
My story to Wendy actually began far before that October day when I brought Wendy home. It began about ten months earlier when I brought home puppy Audrey, a red-merle Australian Shepherd. I was going to love and train Audrey to be the best dog in the world. But, then in a freak farm accident, Audrey was taken from me. I was devastated. And, then my mom told me that the best way to heal from the loss was to find a new puppy to love.
A breeder in Chicago learned of my heartbreak and called me to offer me a pup. I was hesitant to accept her offer. I was not sure I could love another pup so soon. But, I promised her I would at least visit.
When I stopped at the kennel, there was one puppy who was very spunky, constantly taking the lead in all of the cute antics that puppies engage in. She loved to play in the puppy tunnel. She loved to play with toys. And, she loved her ball. I thought she was a bright little girl. . . and through the tears that came, I decided that maybe this pup could help fix my heart.
I brought the little blue merle puppy back to Ohio. When asked what her name was, I had no response. My sister, ever the perfect librarian, and thus the best namer of animals I know, decided that my puppy should have the name Gwendolyn. My other sister, ever more practical than the first, suggested we shorten the name to Wendy. And, the name stuck.
Over the years Wendy and I went on many adventures, fairs, trips, and more. Wendy loved my husband. She was constantly running between us to bring us balls or something to throw. And, when our daughters came, Wendy loved them as though they were her own.
Today it is hard to smile, know that my dear sweet Wendy is gone. No more ball throwing, no more tree climbing (yes, she liked to shimmy up trees!). Just sadness. . . I hope that the pain of losing such a faithful dog soon ebbs and I can focus on the good memories of Wendy. Soon, I hope!
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