Moby has had two constant doggie friends. They visit the 'Moby doggie retreat and spa' at least once a year. Moby gives them a good work out of wrestling, tug-of-war, drool and general frolick-type doggie fun. And it I get to cuddle yet another furry thing!
Moby and Galahad were puppies together. They were two bundles of blond fuzz. Moby always out-weighed Galahad, and for a long time, Moby looked like he could squash Galahad with a paw. But Galahad grew big enough to contend with our lug! Moby liked to play rough, Galahad liked to lick and be pet. We'd joke that Galahad was the 'pretty-boy', and Moby was the jock. Moby would be the rugby player "what blood? Shake it off dude and throw the ball!". While Galahad was the soccer player. Nimble and graceful in his jog, eager but controlled. "Anyone for some soccer?"
I don't normally write two entries in one night, but I felt compelled to write this one tonight. Galahad passed away recently, and my heart is kind of heavy for my pretty-boy-soccer dog friend. The non-dog-lovers of the world will roll their eyes, and tell me that I'm silly to feel sad about a dog's death. But they'll never feel the sense of security that having a dog laying on your feet will bring. They'll never experience joy when you come home to a dog's wagging tail. Few things bring a spontaneous smile to a dog lover's face like that greeting.
I feel for Galahad's family, and the loss they're feeling. It's tough to loose your dog, and so suddenly as well. We're praying, T, BA, M, & E. We'll miss him too.
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