Back in 2004 a very rowdy shepherd mix puppy made her way into our lives and on Saturday she quietly left us again.
You never know quite what you are going to get when you bring home a pound puppy, but we won the SPCA lotto with Ginger. She might have been a lovable bundle of puppy stupid, but Ginger quickly convinced us that she wasn’t just a dog– she was people.
She was a Dog Who Knew Things, you see. She knew when it was Time For Bed and when it was Time For Dinner and that you always (always!) had to bring your stuffed animal to the back door when you wanted to go out. She knew that she could lick near your face, but not on it; that back doors were open season, but she couldn’t go out the front door without a leash
Peoples got to sit on the sofa, and have french fries and boneless chicken wings, enjoy the central air and definitely totally sleep on the bed…. Thus the endless parade of Ginger-under-a-blanket photos was born!
GingerHound was a shining example of the North American Sofa Hound breed and spent almost all of her life asleep on one comfortable surface or another. As much as she loved walks (and would howl at the front door in stupid doggie glee as soon as the leash was on) and barking at People Who Dared Get Near Her Yard, her favorite pastime was napping.
She might not have had puppies of her own, but she played Obi-wan to Shiva’s Luke and taught the Ninja!Puppeh the ways of the Force. Rocko might have been old and set in his corgi ways when we got him, but Ginger taught him the art of Sleeping Under The Computer Desk So They Can’t Move Without Waking You Up And Feeling Guilty although she could never quite get him to agree that french fries were the BEST THING EVER.
So maybe she had a habit of licking the paint off things (dog crates, bedroom doors, walls) and possibly she was a little too fond of the rules (3am wakeups so she could have someone walk her to the back doggie doorflap), but she was the Very Best of All Possible Hounds, and that’s nothing to sneeze at.
At least not after she’d had her Benadryl.
Her last week with us might not have been the posh overindulgence we had hoped for, but we were able to give her the gift of those last few days of pain-free pampering and awesome food… and a peaceful end an amazing life.
I said it before with Dex and I’ll say it again: the next few days and weeks and months are going to hurt like hell.
She was worth every second of it.