She came into our home in April of 1994. The shelter thought she was about 4 months old, and had been rescued from a place called Noah's Ark, which was being run by a well meaning but totally overwhelmed person. Today they would of been called a horder. For a while I had a picture of her that had run in the local paper, she and another pup being held by one of the shelter workers. That wasn't the reason for my trip to the shelter, but its one of the memories I have.
We had just had one of our other dogs, who had lived to be around 18 put down. Our remaining dog, Muffit, which we had also got has a puppy, seemed lost since she had never really known life without another dog. She would sit in the middle of the living room, staring at us since her buddy Rusty was gone. So off to the shelter I went.
I have always held to the thought that you don't pick a dog... the dog picks you. It had happened that way some years before with Muff, as when I went to look at her all the other dogs came up, looked at me and when back to lay in the shade... except for the one I came back the next day and got, who sat right at the edge of the fence, never taking her eyes off of me.
So this time I wandered the kennels and outdoor pens, looking at all the various dogs available. In one cage outside alone was a shephardy looking mutt, and I thought it looked like the one I had seen in the paper. I looked at her, she looked at me and I wandered off looking at all the other dogs. Then I came back.... then wandered some more. And while it wasn't the exact same thing that had happened with the previous dog, there was something that drew me back again to the same cage.
But... I needed backup. When my daughter got out of school I took her to the shelter. She wandered around and I showed her the dog... she wanted one of the chocolate labs in another cage, but I kept taking her back to the black and tan pup. Eventually I convinced her that this was the dog we were going to take home, and that I would even let her name it if she went along with me.
On the way home I was thanked for giving her a home by having the back seat of my car barfed on.
And has time went on, she became daughters dog.... her Boomer.... her's that she actually gave a very long name too (Boomer boombastic spring loaded kitty dog) but who mostly just got called Boo, or Boo Snoodles or Boo Dog....
But years traveled on, and the time again came for a life well lived to complete its run. That happened on Saturday, Feb. 2nd while I was in Disneyland for the anniversary meet. Thankfully, hubby didn't tell me anything about it until I got home on Monday.
So after living and being a part of the family for 19 years, I figured she needed some kind of a tribute for her years of loyal devotion... and that is what follows....