Moose

I think it's been apparent from past posts that I have a HUGE soft spot for dogs, especially big lovable ones. Conrad and I do not have any dogs of our own, but we delight in the ones who live with our friends, and we enjoy sharing what time we can with them on our visits.

There's one less dog to love, I am sorry to say. Moose is gone, and though we haven't seen him in years, he was an unforgettable friend for Martin and Ed and Mark.

This may be shallow of me, but the thing that I first loved about Moose was his name. Moose. Mooooooooooose. A fun name to roll off the tongue, funner still to have that face looking up at you when you said it.

Moose accepted the love of two strange guys visiting from out of town, let us pet him and stroke him, had a very kind temperament for the two of us in his house. I melted, meeting him, and I often asked Martin about him in years after.

It's not been a good summer for Martin and Mark in terms of their animal companions, but this latest blow really hurts. I can understand that it was Moose's time, but a little bit of me won't let the memory of him go.