Introducing Paisle

Dear Everett,

I have picked up your ashes. The beautiful, silverplated cachepot I picked out, to hold your remains, is too small. I laughed and laughed, and cried some too, because even in death, even in ashes for crying out loud, you are larger than life. So your ashes remain in the cardboard box in which they were delivered, complete with separate certification that you were, in fact, cremated by yourself so that I'd be able to sayI'm speaking to you, when I pet the box.

Isn't that silly--but I really do! I stroke the box when I walk by it, saying hello to the Little Girl and tell you about my day. I miss you. But I don't think Ansel does--I don't think he even noticed that you are gone. But he HAS noticed the Alien, that has arrived.

Paisle is not one of the rescues you met before you died. She is supposed to be a Presa Canario/Am Staff mix, but she's so tiny I cannot believe she has ANY kind of mastiff breed in her. She weighed 23.5 lbs in this picture, and was up to 29 the day she was spayed. She's all brindle, with a black mask, two white front feet (toes only), and such an Alien attitude. I am not sure if you'd like her, but she'd do her best to worm her way into your affection if she could. She loves anyone who will play with her, but she is afraid of men.

She was born 12/5/07, and rescued some time in February. She is by far the smallest in the litter that survived their ordeal--I met her sister the day they were fixed, and Honey--another brindle but blonde, not reverse--is easily twice Paisle's size. Paisle's a happy little thing, but she has terrible separation anxiety, just like you did. We have attended one puppy class, and have signed up to attend the series, so we can graduate into Obedience Level 1.

Paisle loves to retrieve. In all the games we've played so far, I gave up before she did. And she is not yet an escape artist, so she's been able to play 'fetch' in the front yard, as well as the backyard! But she cries and cries when I put her in her crate--the first few times she was so upset she threw up her previous meal. We'll continue to work on the "crate is a good place," but this is really new territory for me. I don't ever remember you, Kechel, or Ansel being so upset at being left! And she is ALSO not housebroken--my rugs are suffering. She is the youngest pup I've ever had, as you were supposedly at least 6 months old (with permanent teeth), as was Ansel, and Kechel was 1.5 yrs. old. Paisle still has baby teeth!! I managed to find two that fell out--one on a chewy in my hand, another when she shredded the blanket I'd stuck in her crate with her.

She is nothing like you. I had no hopes of finding your same spirit, because you are one of a kind. Lucky me, to have known you! But I am glad she has come into our lives, wormed her way into Ansel's daily routine (and his basket, his toys, and even into his tolerance--he lets her sleep on top of him now. She's been trying to do so, since the day she came home with me), and he lets her have everything, except his rawhides. Ansel learned that from you! She looks, and acts, like an Alien, hence the reference.

I hope you are well. I hope you are happy and cancer-free, wherever it is that best loved dogs go, after they leave us here on earth. I hope to see you again when my time comes too, and that you'll share your soccer balls with Paisle, who would love to retrieve them alongside you, if she can fit one in her mouth. I hope you are somewhere with Kechel, who barely tolerated you the way Ansel is currently barely tolerating Paisle. I hope to play stick, with all of you, when the time comes. You are my favorite Little Girl.