I struggle writing and posting this because it’s not supposed to be this hard losing a fur baby. Our sweet Moxie girl was a hunter at heart. She would follow me everywhere as I worked in the yard. She would hear the click of the sliding glass door lock and knew it was safari time. Lizards, grasshoppers, June bugs, grub worms, and even a couple of opossum had to use their survival instincts to escape her prowess. Except the squirrels…..those little critters remained her nemesis. So much so, that her focus on one caused her to chase one into the street. It’s not supposed to be this hard.
I have already played every should’ve, could’ve, would’ve, and if only in my heart and mind more times than you can imagine. It does nothing to ease the pain or keep the tears from falling, at least not at this moment. It’s not supposed to be this hard.
Moxie adopted my husband shortly before he retired. At the time plans were already in motion to bring ZaZu (our grandog) home from Georgia as our daughter and son-in-law had two small pups that ZaZu had no desire to put up with. Our little old man, King ZaZu was going to rule our home, or so we thought. Despite my husband’s protests that we would never have another dog after Encino and my determination not to fall in love with her, Moxie’s one floppy ear and feistiness won us over in a matter of days. It’s not supposed to be this hard.
Moxie has traveled with us from the Rio Grande Valley in the southernmost parts of Texas, to the Pineywoods in the east, Palo Duro Canyon in the panhandle and her all time favorite (and ours) hiking and Jeepin’ in Big Bend. Her travels didn’t end with the Lone Star State as she was a part of each of our adventures since my husband’s retirement. She and Zazu are our travel buddies. It’s not supposed to be this hard.
It’s not supposed to be this hard and yet it is. Our intellect tells us she was loved, cared for, and given her best life the last three years; the ache in our hearts tells a different story. I’m certain the tears will come and go as we, and ZaZu adjust to the void Moxie’s death has left in our home and hearts. She will not be forgotten or replaced. The sly look she would give before attempting to do something she shouldn’t. The way she would hold onto ZaZu’s collar as he tried to return a fetched ball. Her daily vicious attack on the mail as the mailman would playfully push and pull the letters through the slot in the doorway. Her companionship on the work table as my husband sewed late into the night. Her eagerness to ride shotgun any time she heard a motor turn over. Her boldness to ride at the bow of the boat. So many stories….it’s not supposed to be this hard.
Lessons Learned When... 