Pumpkin…I was told that most boxers don’t live past the age of ten…but no one ever told you, you were at least fifteen. Since you chose me when you were a stray at the shelter, I never knew your exact birthday.
I will never forget your fear of water …you gave me a black eye when you charged from the bathroom during your first bath…and you hit bottom in the pool, too much muscle and not enough fat doesn’t float well.
I will not forget those months you spent snuggled against me day and night while I was on bedrest during my pregnancy with E1.
I can still see you and a toddler E1 standing at the front door and barking at the FedEx guy. You taught a toddler how to bark…something I will always remember.
Just last week, you helped yourself to a box of cereal in the cupboard…how can I forget the racket that made in the middle of the night?
I will miss your “snarf”…no other way to describe the noise you made when you wanted something.
You were a sweet and lovable dog…a bed and couch hog…a good friend.
We will miss you.
*updated for clarity*