Good-Bye Sweet Summit

     I was not sure at all about getting a dog.  I had thought, perhaps, it was selfish.  I should focus my time on people and their needs, rather than mine.  But then, as so often seems to happen with me, I find that the ideas in my head are not always just right, that a shift here and there, now and again, gets them a little more in line.  And it just so happened that the nudges came this time in three.
     I started to think that it would be nice to have a companion while I walked in the woods and a friend, who seems to say things in just such a way said "Gretchen, it'll make you less selfish" and my sister and her family got a puppy, named Axel.  And with each of these things I began to think more that a dog would be a good move.
     Then my sister and her family took a trip to Africa and I got to watch Axel for a bit, which sealed the deal and I began the search for a dog.  The quest, however, was not as easy as I imagined.  I wanted a medium size dog, a rescue, not a puppy, young and healthy, who would run, but who liked to sleep and, of course, was house trained and did not eat shoes or tromp in my neighbor's garden or bark or slobber too much.  And I searched every day for this perfect dog and nothing, just nothing arose.
      And then one day, I checked my voice mail and there was a message from a woman who rescues dogs.  I have just the right one for you she said and within minutes I was on my way.  And there before me was the saddest of girls, who slowly came to me and wanted a pet.  Should I take her, I thought, why yes, I should, and within the hour we were driving away.  So excited and frightened, I was, you cannot quite imagine (and I think my new Summit was too).
     I called my sister asking what to do, for I had no food, no leash and no bed.  You see we had dogs when I was a child, but that was a long ago memory with not many responsibilities had.  I stopped the car and picked up the basics and off we went to her new home.  My niece came up that weekend to show me the ropes.  We talked about dogs and walked and went down to Donner Lake where she and I read and Summit peacefully slept the afternoon away in the shade of a picnic table.
     People asked me what I would do when on my travels.  I was not quite sure, but I knew family would help.  What I had known though, long before, is that if you have to work out everything before a decision, then one will never be made.  (By the way, thank you my family and friends, for willingly and tenderly caring from my Summit so many such times when we needed help.)

     Quiet as can be, she did not leave my side (and never really has) and would look almost nowhere else.  I thought she would sleep downstairs, I liked a room of my own, but soon found that her bed was right next to mine.  I had found just what I wanted, a perfect companion who ran and obeyed and slept just fine.  She was, in fact, far more than I had imagined, my sweet sweet Summit, what a fine dog.  My list of wants was long, but what she gave me was even more.
      For she kept me company on long walks and runs and made me smile when she ran so fast and frolicked and cooled off in the creeks.  My timid friend, she even treed a bear on one of her most courageous days and never was a bird allowed to land upon her shores.   In the evenings, she was by my side for a treat and pet and some rest.

     Oh, sweet Summit you were gentle with friends, family and strangers, never a worry you gave me.  And those selfish thoughts, well it is how I met most of the people, who now are our friends on our street and in our new little town.  And you knew sweet Summit when I was having a tough day and stood by my side and gave comfort.  And even when life got less lonely, we stayed good friends, you and me.  With mountains to climb and wandering to do and time spent here in the garden, always you were willing and right there.
    Oh, Sum Sum, you opened my heart and softened it too, to let others in and be tender.  You made me laugh, knowing just what you wanted; when on a walk it was time to stop, you would go no further, just turnaround.  You knew your mind and it worked for you (and me too).
    And Pretty Girl, people thought, as I already knew, that you and I were a perfect fit.  Some laughed that we both like to take our time to decide whether or not we would let someone into our lives and I think that was alright, a good way for us to be.

     My Tom, at one point said, we have two dogs and a Summit, that he'd never seen such a girl.  That, I think was quite right.  Then you got sick and it has been so hard to watch, knowing that you could not do what you loved, yet you stayed around rather quite long, even the vet named you the Miracle Dog.
     We knew yesterday that it was time for you to go and are sad.  So good-bye my Sweet Summit, you will be missed and remembered with a smile followed by a tender sigh.  For you were a grand companion who softened and opened my heart.  Thank you my girl and my sweet sweet friend.