Cookie

It was 1953, my aunt who was going to Europe for an extended time with her husband. She gave us her French pica boo dog. I called her Micky; she was white and had long white hair. She was missing her family very much, and was very upset. She started trying to run away from the first day, and one day as I opened our front door, she jumped out and ran away. There were too many stray dogs on our street. The municipality had given instructions to their employees to poison all the stray dogs to prevent rabies. Micky fell victim to her escape from home and lost her life. In 1982, I was working in Venezuela. My wife's English girl friend found a little dog who had wound up in our company compound. She gave her to my wife and I called her Micky, in the memory of my little dog in Iran. We were there for almost a year, and she accepted us as her family. She was a very loving dog. She used to sneak and chew on my ears, it was great fun. She loved riding in our pick truck ; we took her everywhere with us. My contract was up; my wife gave her to a friend who had a large family. We also gave her a noticeable monetary gift. It was very sad giving her up, but taking animals from one country to another is a very big head ache. In 1988, I was working in St Louis, MO, my wife had an Egyptian girl friend who was a medical doctor and had just bought a little Lhasa absa poppy, complete with its own medical insurance. They got a job in Saudi Arabia and had to leave on a very short notice. She asked my wife to take care of him till they came back. I called him Micky, in the memory of my previous dogs. He adopted me as his leader and would come and sit on my lap on the sofa. Later on, we heard that the Egyptian couple had a plane crash and were both dead. We were glad to take care of Micky, he was such a gentle and loving dog. The poor dog got run over by our neighbor who was a fat and ugly soccer mom. She had an uglier daughter, well it is not easy to select cuties to run you over. The poor dog was hanging on to life and was breathing , till my wife picked him up and kissed him goodbye. God bless you dear Micky, you were such a great joy in our lives. Our next dog was a miniature Dachshund, who was given to my wife by her adopted young sister. He was very little and sweet. I called him Cookie; he adopted my wife as his mama, he used to crawl to her lap, and make himself warm at home. He was with us for almost sixteen years, and finally died of cancer. I am still talking to him in the mornings and feel his presence. Thank you dear Cookie for all the love you brought us. I am not well and my wife spends most of her time at work, we don't have time or energy for another dog. My wife has gotten us a fish tank with seven little fish. They get very excited when I turn on the living room light in the mornings. Well, we have to do the best with what we got. We need our pets, and they need us to love them and take care of them.