RIP

Back in the good old days at my unofficial dog park there
were only a few of us who knew of the place and we always had
a good time. Greta here was one of the original rgulars. She owned
a man named Frank. Greta would dig around in the dirt and I can
still hear Frank's voice as he would say with some authority:
"Greta, we don't eat dirt." Well, apparantly we did because
Frank would have to say this at least once on every walk.

Frank and his family moved away a few years back and from
what I heard Greta exchanged her woodsy walks with walks on the
beach. I suppose instead of eating dirt Greta moved to sand.

I lost touch with Greta and Frank shortly after they moved but I thought
about them and the good old days often. So it was with great sadness that
I read the letter Frank just sent me informing me of Greta's untimely death
from a heart attack.

The wonderful part of living your life with dogs is that they give endless unconditional
love and add entertainment, joy, and comfort. But oh their lives are
relatively so short and the pain of their loss is so great.

Goodnight, Greta