Gone but not forgotten: Demon James.
It was four years ago this month that Demon passed on (I don't know what it is about this month and my pets ... with Mauler sick, I'm just hoping that she breaks this morbid trend the same way Reagan broke Tecumseh's curse!) ...
But of course I still think of you fondly, and it makes it easier since you have a habit of showing up in my dreams. [Funny how the mind deals with loss -- Demon's showed up multiple times, but as a twin -- in my dreams, there's two of them; one sick and one healthy like when he was younger.] But I can easily remember the real life things too.
Like how you used to jump up and drink out of the public water fountains along the RiverWalk in Harrisburg ... or how you slobbered all over my shoulder when we would stop at Hardees on the way from Chicago to South Bend to visit family ... or how you treed Robert when you decide to protect the pig ear you had been given. Truth be told, I still wince a little when I consider a doggie bag eating out at a restaurant (but I recover quickly when I recall how much you did enjoy the feast of leftover bones from those frequent Golden Sheaf wine dinners).
Plus there is our "meet cute" story -- me going to claim you from the friend of the girl I worked with at Cable AdCom to give to DJ. When I arrived the kids in the family were feeding you stones by throwing pebbles your way (which you promptly swallowed, as everything went into your mouth by default) and I pulled them aside and told them that I would feed them stones if I saw another one get tossed your way. Then we went home and you sat on one end of the couch while I watched TV and slowly ate one leg of my jeans, ripping a piece of denim off every fifteen or twenty minutes or so. We were bonded, so when DJ couldn't keep you, you were mine for the next dozen years.
Demon, I only wish that I had had you from the beginning, but in the time I had, you were always loved ... and now you are most certainly missed.
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