Honey

I want to say goodbye to my mom's dog, Honey. She was 16 and a half (87 in human years, according to the chart on the vet's wall). It was the same room we took Nala to when we had to put her to sleep. My mom rescued Honey when she was two. I'm not sure anyone else would have taken her...or kept her. She was ornery to most people except my mom. She was rough around the edges to look at, except for her mesmerizing, dark eyes. She loved my mom dearly and my mom returned that love.

My mom and I recounted a lot of Honey stories the last few days . I enjoyed hearing about the day she and my cousin Lester rescued Honey at the Humane Society. We also reminisced about how she went nuts every time I'd leave the car on our trip moving my mom up to MN. She'd never done that before and never did it again. And then there was the time one of Henry Michael's friends picked her up. We were all afraid to because she always acted like she would bite you when you tried. He didn't know any better and we learned that it was all an act. She didn't have it in her to actually bite you in the hand.

I enjoyed having Honey "next door" these last nine years and I will miss her.