Ode to Four-Footed Friends

We lost a family member last week.  Our greyhound, Ellory.  Ellory McQueen “LL McBean” Myskowski, also known as “Elle,” to be precise.

She was our daughter’s pet; it was Abby who arranged the adoption.  That was nine-plus years ago.

When Elle first moved in with us at the ripe old track retirement age of three, our daughter couldn’t walk her.  Though Elle was the smallest greyhound at the kennel, she was still too large and too strong for our then first grader to handle alone.  But eventually first graders grow into college students.  And unfortunately dogs can only accompany us so far on our life’s journey.

While Elle’s loss is a keen blow to my husband and me, for we have lost a true and loyal friend, her death has left a profound hole in our daughter’s life.  With time the pain may ease a bit, but no one can completely erase the loss of a pet with which you grew up, walked many miles, went on vacations, and too soon out lived.

Elle, you’re missed.  Especially this holiday season.  And this morning when you weren’t waiting for us to walk you. And tonight when you won’t be begging for your dinner.  And all the days and evenings to come when—for just the teensiest, tiniest instant—we'll forget you’re no longer here.