Kishka Bob

Adopted:  December 2, 2002

Died:  March 11, 2010

To say that I’m not prepared to write this post is the understatement of the century.   Oh, Kishka.   My sweet girl.  Kishy.   How on earth do I say goodbye to you?

Your story, like all of my pet stories, began at the Humane Society.  It was December 2002 and my ex-husband and I were looking for a third dog to round out our furry family.   I wanted to make it a German Shepherd trio so I was focused on adopting a Shepherd.  I found one, but my ex was insistent on meeting you.   He thought you were cool looking and eventually he talked me into meeting you before we met the Shepherd.  I’m eternally grateful for that.

You came into the meeting room and promptly flipped over for a belly rub.  In that instant, I fell in love.

When my marriage ended the three of you stayed with me.   I fought for you guys and it was more than worth it.

I can’t talk about you without talking about them.  I called you guys The Three Stooges and the three of you were inseparable.

When Max and Sam would wrestle, you would stand on the sidelines wooing.  (I liked to think that you were calling commentary on the wrestling match.)

You were the low dog on the totem pole when they were alive and when Samantha died it was interesting to watch you take on the role of top dog.  It didn’t take long.  You loved to boss Sadie around.     She rarely made a move without consulting you first.

As much as you loved to boss her around, you and Sadie were the best of friends.  One of my great joys was watching you guys together.

The two of you loved exploring together…

…walking together…

…getting into mischief together…

…and just hanging out together.

You were always such an agile and active dog.   In your younger years you never walked around the couch.  You jumped over it.

You were a fast runner.

You used to catch rabbits.  There was a period of time when I would have to do a mouth check before you came in the house.  (This was due to you bringing a dead rabbit in the house and hiding it in the couch cushions.)

You loved to dig.   Often on our walks, we would pause for several minutes at a time while you went after something.

Sometimes you caught a field mouse while digging.   I pretended to be grossed out but I was proud of you:  my great hunter.

You liked to chase your tail.   Often we’d be walking along and you’d start running in circles trying to catch that darn tail.  When you did catch it, you’d yelp and usually end up with a clump of fur in your mouth.

You loved to play fetch.   If I was willing, you could spend an entire afternoon chasing a ball.

The only time you ever laid on your back was after a game of fetch.    You loved to lie on your back in the sun with a tennis ball in your mouth.

When we started going to the dog park you discovered a new love:  squirrel hunting. Your attention span with squirrels was amazing.   You would sit perfectly still and wait for one to come down from a tree.

You never caught one, but that didn’t stop you from trying again and again.

You didn’t eat like most dogs.   You dined.   You stretched out with the food bowl between your front legs and slowly, carefully ate your food.   It would sometimes take you 30 minutes to eat a meal.

I loved your ears.   Yes, that’s weird, but I loved how one tipped over and one stood straight up. Your ears were also very, very soft.

I also loved the touch of white on the tip of your tail.

You were a sweet and gentle soul.

You were never an overly snuggly dog, but you were affectionate.  Sometimes when we were driving down the road you would sit behind me and put your head on my shoulder.

Most days when I arrived home from work you were waiting for me.

When I was sick you tried to comfort me.

I think my favorite thing about you was your wooing.   I loved it.  You wooed all the time and it made me laugh every single time.

I’m not sure how I’m going to live in a world without wooing.

Most of all, I’m not sure how I’m going to live in a world without you.