to my woof woof.

we read about you in the paper. and we went, on our lunch hour, across the train tracks and down the road with $300 in the glove box. in cash. that strange woman brought you out and set you down on the dirty road. you were tiny. two pounds. the german Shepard in the yard was barking and gnashing its teeth, but you didn't notice. i took one look at you and was smitten. we bought you and brought you home.

for awhile a kennel was your home while we were away. i hated locking you up in there. but, i knew it was for the best. after some time, we could trust you. so you got to stay out. your perch was the back of the couch where you could keep a watchful eye on the street. sometimes, you'd sleep in the sun. later, you found the suede chair and made it your own.

i came home for lunch to let you out most days. one time, your face was swollen and your eyes wouldn't open. i rushed you to the vet afraid you would die. you'd been stung by several bees and needed a shot. i didn't know what i'd do if i lost you.

you were my buddy. my best friend. you waited for me on my side of the bed. you sat with me on the couch. you followed me around while i made dinner or dusted or got ready for work. you accompanied me on one-mile cool down walks - post run. you were always excited to see me, always happy, always accepting.

and you loved to eat. inhaling food like a vacuum.

and you were smart. very smart.

you were my gussy. my bubba. my guster. mr. guss. you had 'gussy ears' and the most human-like expressions. you talked to me with your sighs. your whines. your exhales.

you were a light in my life, mr. woof. and i'm sorry i had to go.

i miss you terribly.