Goodbye Sweet Cali

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

You were a boy’s best friend and a little girl’s curiosity. You’ve taught them to love deeper, wider and broader so that their definition of sibling and family extends into the animal kingdom.



You were my baby when we couldn’t have one and our baby's momma when I was trying to figure out how to be one. I will never forget your howling every. single. time. our babies cried, whimpered or whined.

You are the best birthday gift a man could ever receive. Our version of the book “Good Dog, Max!” with your tiny pink nose, watery blue eyes and goose down coat riding in the green laundry basket I used to transport you to surprise Max.

You have been the pain in my ass and the beat of my heart for the last 13.5 years. I regret every time I scolded you and celebrate every beach adventure that you endlessly rolled in the sand and back to the water to clean yourself off. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

A pup with endless nicknames. And even with so many, you still rarely responded to them unless you were bribed with a treat or Max did his famous two-toots whistle.
  • Cali - the state we named you after where we fell in love
  • Cal-Cal - because twice of much of a good thing is even better
  • Cal - because when you were in trouble, one syllable is easier
  • Caliente - our nickname for you when we were still infused with the flavor of San Diego 
  • Callison - since the arrival of Staci’s first child—Allison / Ally—was about the same timing as your arrival in our lives

I will always remember:
  • The way you figured out how to scoop up snow and throw it with me the time you had to wear the "lampshade" collar after your tangle with the Vanderground's boat trailer
  • Your protection of the scar on your back left flank
  • How you'd run the "gamut" at the Mayfield house, so fast, whipping in a figure 8 between dinner table and coffee table...always leaping between the two rugs
  • The transportation rug in Ryan's room that was your favorite sleeping place
  • The white puppy fur on your chest that you still had until the day you passed
  • Your pink freckled nose, a clear sign you belonged to us
  • Your last good-bye with our kids as they leaped into the back of the Yukon for one last hug before you had to go

You set the standard for all pets in this family.
We’re already missing you like crazy. 


Thank you Cali for being ours forever.




















 




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