This grief thing goes in cycles. Although it has been over a year, I still grieve. Some of the heaviness is gone, but I still think of them daily and miss them. Today, for some reason, I was thinking of how Dad called the dogs "Coon". If you heard him do it, you know just how that sounded. He said it kind of strangely. All the dogs were Dachshunds, not coon dogs, but for some reason, they still got called "Coon". Even, "Coon's a good doggie" and stuff like that. He'd call them by their names, too, but a lot of the time it was just "Coon". It was just this thing he did. I was trying to remember if he ever called Greta that. Maybe. She wasn't over there very much since we just got her in December 2006. But Sophie--she was called that a lot! Or he would call her "Soapie". And Heidi and Penny--they were called that, too. He loved the dogs. He really did. He would carry Sophie outside and hold her so that her face was next to his cheek and he'd be talking to her and telling her she was a good doggie. She would follow him all the way up to the back when he took out the trash. She loved going with him.

I was just telling some people at work about when Heidi (1977-1990) had her back problems. Her back legs were becoming paralyzed and she was in a lot of pain. She had a disk disease. I was at IU and I remember when they called me and told me the options were to put her down or take her to Purdue for surgery. Well, immediately I thought--they are going to put her to sleep because there is NO way Dad will pay for surgery (at that time in 1984 it was $400). To my surprise, they decided to take her to Purdue! I will never forget when Dad picked me up after my last final exam in December to go pick her up. We drove to Lafayette and brought her home. I rode with her in the back seat. She was a sick little dog for a while, but she pulled through and did fine for several years. But the thing was--Dad was a softie. Whether it was because he knew it would upset me to lose her, or whether he didn't want to lose her himself, or a little of both--I don't know. But Mom and Dad took her up there and Dad and I went and brought her home. There is another funny story with this...when we brought her home, she was sick and had diarrhea. So Mom was trying to keep her confined to the bathroom at night. One morning I was upstairs and I saw Mom trying to step over this board to get into the bathroom--here she is in her robe and slippers--and she steps in poo and slips and falls. It isn't funny she fell, but she got poo all over her robe and she was not happy! I think there may have been curse words uttered! (She didn't curse very often--not like Dad, whose every other word was "hell" or "damn"--he was in the army, after all.) Anyway, I was standing at the top of the stairs and it was all I could do to not laugh. That would have REALLY made her mad!

I wish they could've known Greta and met Fritzi. I know they would've liked them a lot. Not sure what Mom would've done with Fritzi--I'm sure after "Betty Boot Camp", Fritzi would mind a lot better!

Love you Mom and Dad.

Susie