Miska

Goodbye my sweet little furry girl,

Getting you was the best decision I ever made. Letting you go was the hardest. I hadn’t planned on getting another chow right then, but when Dad got sick I thought a little “puppy therapy” would do us all some good – I just never could have imagined how much. You had us all wrapped around your paw from the beginning.

People always asked what your name means: I found it on a website that said it meant “little bear” in Russian. In doing a little more research lately, I found that it has several meanings (and apparently it is a boy’s name – oops!). In Karelian it means, “a young bear”, in Slovene “small mouse” and in Finnish “Who is like God” – I think you must have known that…it would explain a lot.

The excruciating pain of saying goodbye to you is completely outweighed by the love and joy you brought to our lives. My head is sure of that; my heart is still working on it.

A few of the million reasons we loved you:

You only used your cuteness for good.

You put up with being petted, hugged and/or snuggled incessantly – the price you pay for being so fluffy and cute.

You took your jobs very seriously – particularly announcing the arrival of the paper EVERY morning, even though it was the same guy, same car at the same time every day.

You would intentionally trap yourself in the bathroom to get a treat when I “rescued” you.

You forgave me for not understanding the joys of sitting for hours in the snow (although I did occasionally put on my snow suit and join you – never for long enough in your opinion).

If you were feeling ignored or were not pleased with something you would go jump up on “the protest couch” in the sunroom.

You liked helping with the dishes.

You were not afraid of the vacuum – “What, you mean I have to move? I’m mid-nap, can’t you just vacuum around me?”

You had great manners – you always used your “polite” bark to let Gene, Bette & Dave know you were in the yard and they could bring over your treats now.

Your perfection of the “flop maneuver” – “You have to go to work? But I’m happy here in the yard…maybe if I lay flat out she won’t be able to move me and will have to stay home from work…yeah, that will work.”

You couldn’t start your day without your massage – Really, who can?

You never gloated about being (by far) the most photogenic member of the family.

You could disobey commands in 3 languages (English, Norwegian and Spanish).

You even made snoring cute.

You weren’t needy or demanding (OK, so you liked a treat now & then – that doesn’t count), the point is you were happy just being near your people.

You were so optimistic – “I might be able to get ANOTHER treat – how will I know if I don’t ask?”

You were smart enough to discover that when you “give me the paw” – I give you treats. (That’s giant pez dispensers work – give them the paw and they give you puppy pez).

I really don’t know what we are going to do without you.

Love you furball,

Your heartbroken giant pez dispenser