Duke

Duke came into my life a puppy of 3 months with feet and floppy ears way too big for his puppy body. As he grew into his features and one ear stood up long before the other I knew I was in for a goofball of a dog. Duke refused to walk on certain floors, walked backwards through certain doorways, and consistently Houdinied himself out of his kennel. He would cry whenever things were getting too fun (giving him the nickname FunPolice) and howl in pain if you stepped too close to his tail. All of these quirks and many more gave him more personality than I ever thought a dog could have. I thank him for this, I’m sure he was the original reason the woman of my dreams stuck around to become the woman of my life.

He is now 10 at the time of his passing and has become more than my goofy dog. He has been my wife’s companion, protector and of course funpolice. Daisy’s older brother, teacher and snugglebuddy. My mother’s walking buddy and patient listener. My father’s nemesis. My mother-in-law’s hero. My uncle’s reason to believe in ghosts (Duke stares a little too long at walls sometimes). Our neighborhood mascot. And our friends’ and families’ overzealous greeter.

Duke, I will think of you every time I hug Mallory and do not hear you serenading us. Every time there is peace and quiet on the pontoon. Every time I go for a run around the lake. Every time I mow the lawn without you leaving your precious blue ball in my path. Every time I say your favorite words: “run. ready. outside. cabin. hungry?” And every time I think of how special pets can be to a family. Know that the grief we are feeling only reminds us more of the love and loyalty you showed us, and how much we love you.