Oh, sweet Missy

Growing up, I wanted a dog. My best friend had a dog. I loved dogs. We all wanted a dog. And, by "we" I mean me and my brothers and sister. My mom said there was no way we were getting a dog when she had four kids, and my dad was constantly deployed overseas. It wasn't going to happen. As an adult, now, with two kids of my own, I can see her point. As a child, not so much.

So, because we couldn't get a dog, I got a parakeet. Then, when that one died, I got a second parakeet. This one named Robin. Yes, a parakeet named Robin. Don't ask me why. It came that way. Robin died under the cloud of suspicious circumstances. It involved chocolate chips and an unnamed suspect. FYI: birds shouldn't eat chocolate chips. I was done with birds after that. Turns out they just aren't that cute. Well, next came Fred the fish. Fred lived a really long time for a goldfish, but as cute as the movie Finding Nemo is, you just can't cuddle a fish. Along the way, I think my sister had a gerbil or hamster or something. And, I'm pretty sure my little brother tried to bring multiple creepy crawlies into the house under the guise of petdom. But, all this time, no dog.

Then, my dad got out of the active duty military, and we moved to Kansas. My parents finally said our family could get a dog. Cue: cheering children! We got Sweetie first. She was a rescue that I picked out. Unfortunately, as cute as she was, she was already ancient when we got her. She died within 6 months of us bringing her home. But, it was a good last 6 months.

Then, we brought home Missy. A sweet, adorable blonde Cocker Spaniel. I was 15 when we got Missy. She was another rescue from the animal shelter. There are really no better words to describe Missy than sweet. She just had a tender-hearted personality. And, for as much as my mom had been set against getting a dog, Missy became HER dog. She followed her around, pouted when she left and basically just craved her companionship. This isn't to say Missy wasn't loved by the rest of us. How could you not love her? Look at that face.

Well, after 16 years in our family, Missy had to be put to sleep today. It's hard for me to even write those words, because even though I was almost in college when we got her, she still was the only dog I have ever "had." And, it appears she will be the only dog I ever will "have," since Cory wants absolutely nothing to do with getting our own dog. So, even if I haven't lived in the same house with her for more than a decade, I still will miss her sweet, sweet heart and beautiful doggie self.


A short trip down memory lane with Missy:

This is around the time when we first got her. Seriously, she had to be the sweetest dog to let us dress her up in clothes like that. Also, please ignore all style choices by me. It was the mid-late 90s. That's the only excuse I have.

Yes, that is me and Cory with Missy round about 1997. Again, ignore the style, focus on that cute doggie.

This was Molly's first picture with Missy. It's like they're trying to hold hands/paws!

Molly and Missy in 2008. Sweetness personified. (Or, should I say dogified?)

Seriously, so cute. 

I've, of course, realized as I was putting this together, that I have no pictures of Charlotte with Missy. I guess she won't remember her anyway, but well, it just makes me sad.

I really try not to be a total downer on my "life makes me laff" blog, but I had to share what a wonderful, precious dog Missy was, and how much she will be missed. She was an awesome snuggler and cuddler, though she wasn't a great running partner, no matter how many times I tried to convince her that she would be. She was smart and could be sneaky (she once climbed on top of the table and at an entire stick of butter!). She got depressed whenever my parents pulled out their suitcases for a trip, and would climb into them in hopes of being taken along. She was gentle with my girls and loved to take naps on the couch. There will be a hole in the family now that she is gone, but we have loved having her with us for as long as we have.

Ok, ok. Done with the sad, sappy stuff? You want to laugh? Alright, fine. You have my permission to go back and laugh at both my style and eyebrows in the above pictures. (Please, I hadn't yet discovered the amazing power of eyebrow waxing.) Are you laughing now? Ok, good. You're welcome.



In loving memory of Missy Randolph