My first dog, Desdemona, spent most of the time at my parents' house. She was there whenever I was working odd hours, visiting out of town, or just hanging out with Mom. Truly, Dez was more my mother's dog than mine. She loved Mom.
That was, until she met Lexi.
Lexi belonged to my neighbour and it took her about two weeks to break down the aged fence between our yards. She knew there was another dog there and that she needed to meet her. One day, I heard a boom and when I went outside, Lexi was in our yard and the section of fence was on the ground.
My Dad and I built in a gate into the fence so the girls could play together.
Just like Lexi barrelld her way into our yard, she did the same into our hearts. She came with slobbering tongue, huge feet and little mind. She and Dez played until they were exhausted heaps of dog flopped under our crab apple tree.
I adored Lexi. Had she not belonged to the cutest little 6 year old and her big brother, I might have stolen her. She and I had a history. She ate my necklace that I got from my Mom the year she was diagnosed with Cancer. I picked up rainbow poop for a week before I found it. (She had eaten a box of crayons as well.)
I babysat for her when her owner was out of town. We slept together on the double bed and I realized just how big a Black Lab could be.
For almost 10 years, she has been a stable -- if not completely hyperactive -- part of our lives.
Today, she moves to her new home. My friend is moving to a place that doesn't allow pets. Lexi is moving to a farm where she gets to run wild all day long, her best friend is a Chihuahua and she still gets to crawl into the house every night warm and happy in her adventures.
I likely won't get to see her again. But I know she is going to love her new place. And someday, Dez will be waiting to knock down a fence and play with her again.