Thanks so much, you guys. I knew you'd understand that losing ANY dog is painful, but a sweet Dobe is so much harder. Why are they so different? I'll bet none of us could put it into words, but there's just something *more* about a Dobe. The saddest part of all this is that Zipper was my last one. It was a miracle that we found her in the first place, considering where we live, and at my age, I'm getting a bit creaky and not able to keep up with a healthy young one that much anymore. Zipper was old like me, so we kinda moved at the same speed, and that was OK.
Dobebug, your post made me smile. Get a new brain. LOL! My husband and I used to joke about Zip only having three working brain cells. One for barking, one for eating, and one for spinning in circles. Those were the things she did best. But there was one more, I think. The brain cell for love, and it was a big one. I miss so much not having her lie in front of the couch while I'm crapped out watching a movie, my one arm across her shoulder or stroking the top of her head. And if we had a storm, or she was nervous about anything, she'd back up tight against me so I could lean forward and give her a whole-body hug. She gave good hugs.
I know you all already know these things, I'm just rambling, and I'm only doing it because I know I can, here. Because your boys and girls do the same things. I have plenty of things to distract me, however, and for that I'm grateful. There are some new kittens in the house, and a new calf out in the barn, and the remaining house dog, Missy, to try to help get over her own grief.
Speaking of that, hubby and I had to leave yesterday to go to town to see the dentist, and Missy apparently thought we were going to visit Zipper again, and was literally throwing herself at the door, screaming to go with us. I finally yelled at her to back up, and she wouldn't, which is SO not like her. She's normally extremely obedient, but she was NOT going to be left home. I decided it was best to take her with us, so she could see that we weren't actually going to visit Zipper. I guess we'll be taking her with us the next few times we go anywhere, until she gets the message that Zipper is not going to come home, ever. Zipper might have been the dumbest dog I've ever known, but Missy is the smartest (she's a Malinois cross), and she challenges me every day to out-think her. So it's not like I have nothing to do, and eventually, my bouts of melancholy and weepiness will get less and less. I want to remember Zipper and smile, not get all blubbery and start crying every time. Zipper would be sad that I'm sad.
And life goes on.