A mere three months after we said, “I do,” we adopted a little girl.
I don’t talk about it much because, well, she is no longer with us and it doesn’t seem relevant to our daily life or this blog.
But for the time we shared, we were inseparable and she was perfect! She had curly hair and a sense of humor, just like me, and was incredibly athletic and agile, just like Lizard.
Here’s a family photo from that blissful time:
Doesn’t it just warm your heart?
Munchkin was our first attempt at parenting. She was a toy poodle with a wonderful, needy personality. She was a poodle of the most wonderful proportions and disposition, we spoiled her to an insane degree.
Until my dad stole her from us.
Well, it doesn’t go quite like that. The truth is a skunk decided to make its home under our house and sprayed one night. Our whole family headed down the road to stay at my parent’s until the scent dissipated.
When we were finally able to move back in, I asked Munchkin if she was ready to go home. She hopped into my dad’s arms and hid her face in the crook of his elbow.
Traitor. She was totally won over by my dad’s home-cooked doggy meals seasoned with beef drippings and chicken bits.
So, she stayed with my parents after the skunk incident. A few years later she got very sick and we found out she had only one functioning kidney… her little body just gave out on her.
My dad keened his grief. She was a good dog.
I have the fondest of memories for Munchkin, and I have the above photo framed in our bedroom as a memory of her sweetness but also because it reminds me of the soccer team Lizard was coaching that year (we were at a game when the photo was taken), the special friend who took the photo, and, well, I think my husband is hot in it. So there.
This afternoon, however, I guess Uno and Dos saw the photo for the first time.
I learned this because I had them down for their rest time when the bedroom door opened and Uno tip-toed out into the living room, her face flushed and eyes watery.
“Mommy, I just can’t stop crying. I saw the photo of Munchkin and I’m just so sad that she’s dead!”
Huh?! Is this a joke? Uno was about nine months old when the skunk incident took place. She had no beef with Munchkin but they certainly weren’t the best of friends.
“Dos and I, we just can’t stop crying about it!” Dos stuck her head out of the bed room door as well, checking to see how the confessional was going with Uno.
Her eyes were also red.
What on Earth?! I looked at my daughters, so sincere in their grief and tried to formulate a response.
“Well, girls, Munchkin has been gone a long time and she was very sick before she died,” I said. “I think she’s happier now.”
Uno nodded wisely. “I bet she’s in heaven.”
Dos was considering all of this carefully. She wasn’t ready to give up on her tears but was willing to accept maybe the dog had moved on to a happier place. After all, All Dogs Go to Heaven, right?
“Yeah,” Dos said, finally. “I bet Munchkin is in heaven, pooping with God.”
Hm… who am I to argue with that one?
Do you believe all dogs go to heaven to spend quality time pooping with God?