As some of you may know, we lost our yellow lab, Lenny, on February 16, 2012. My mom wanted to write up a tribute to him, and as she doesn't have a blog or site of her own, I told her I'd post it here. So I took the picture, she wrote the words.
In July, 2011, at the Huron Valley Shelter, we were introduced to ”Bobby.” Our Malamute had died in his sleep at 14 years, and I had had in mind another Alaskan-type dog, perhaps a middle-sized young adult. So of course I came home with a 100-pound-plus yellow lab, already eight years old, with a noble head, a soft cream-colored coat, and big sad brown eyes. For the eyes or whatever reason, he reminded my daughter of someone named “Lenny”, and “Lenny” he became.
Wherever Lenny spent his previous years, he had been well fed, well trained, already neutered. He was very large, and some would say past his prime – not everyone’s candidate for adoption. But he charmed us with his easy response to basic commands, his mindful, no-nip acceptance of treats, and his amazingly expressive “helicopter” tail. We’d never before had a shorthaired dog, or one with long soft ears that flopped wildly when he galloped after a ball. But once home, Lenny settled in as if he’d been with us for years and expected to stay forever. The bowls, the toys, the big bed he inherited – all these were immediately his, as we were now his own people. Like our departed Worf, he loved food, treats, walks, other animals, and everyone he ever met. (Our incumbent – and territorial – cat wasn’t even on his radar.) He lived for attention and company, and would ask for “cuddles” with a huge but gentle paw to the nearest knee. His house training was impeccable. He could bark, but very seldom did, and then only outside the house. From July through December, we had early walks and long days together, and we expected many more.