Ozark was a good ole' boy from Arkansas. He never met a person he didn't like. He had just turned 16, and his body was showing the wear and tear of all of his adventures during his lifetime. He got to meet a lot of wonderful people in his 16 years, many of whom tried to adopt him away from me! Everyone found him pretty damned easy to like. So now he's gone to join Flashy, who I'm sure has been waiting impatiently for his buddy. I know I'll see them both again. He is missed by many, many folks in this world.
Indy is gone. A person can count himself or herself lucky if once in their life they live with a great dog and have the time and heart to appreciate the experience. Sixteen years ago, a pound-dog's life intersected with ours at a time when we could make him our partner and our pal. He lived a dream - two walks a day, a couch, carcasses to scavenge on, and being the star of his own show. He lived it to the fullest, while we basked in the warmth of his joy and enthusiasm. We have no regrets, only a clear, clean, piercing pain: grief as uncomplicated as we will ever feel. That too, he's given us. We simply miss him. It doesn't get much more uncomplicated than that.
