In memory of Dusty Anne Thommes Sep02 '03

If they say, "Home is where the heart is," I say, "Home is where Dusty is."

For 15 years, this house was not mine, or my parents, or anyone else’s. It was Dusty’s. She spent the most hours inside this house, and for that reason, it is hers. It will always be hers.

This home was her world. She got out, sure. The park across the street, the front and back yards, walks around the neighborhood, trips to David or my baseball games, and car rides were just some of the greater places frequented by Dusty. She loved to get out of the house and explore. But she also loved to return. She loved her couch, her bed, and her prime spot on the carpet. She loved her rocking chair, her blanket, and most importantly – her spot near my Dad.

She loved us all, but she loved my Dad more than anybody. You could see it in her eyes when he was around. You could see it in her tail – or stub of a tail, as it went furious whenever my Dad was in her line of vision. (Cocker Spaniels have their tails cut off when they are born, so all that’s there is a stub.) Dusty would watch out the front window, propped up on the high part of the couch, and as my Dad returned from jogging, she would wimper and cry because she was so happy to see him return.

The sounds that are now missing are so clear, and so painful.

Whenever Dusty walked on a hard surface, such as the kitchen floor, her nails would make a sound. You always knew when Dusty got up. You always knew when she was walking around.

Dusty’s bark was a big one for a medium–sized dog. You heard it when she barked at the mailman, or neighbors’ dogs, or just for no apparent reason. Dusty had a very healthy bark. If only I could hear it once more.

15 years of happiness is tough to see dissolve. I was only eight years old when we first brought her home.

An emotional attachment occurred quickly. All of us managed to develop one early on. And Dusty was emotionally attached to us as well. But not like my Dad. Maybe it was those late nights the two would spend watching T.V., and quietly dozing off to the sound of a sleeping house. She loved him first, and she loved him longest.

As a constant vigil of this household – day and night, Dusty was always home to keep you company. You never felt quite as lonely in the house when Dusty was there too.

She never went out with you though. Those moments came every day where you had to say, "Bye, Dust." She would remain there, watching us with curious eyes as we walked out the door and shut it behind us. Even outside, as we walked to our cars in the driveway, or wherever it was we were going, we knew Dusty was still sitting there, watching the door, with the hopes that maybe we forgot something, and would have to return – or maybe by sheer luck, someone else would just so happen to come home after we had just left.

Passing the hours was Dusty’s life. Waiting for someone to arrive back home was Dusty’s reason for living. She never got mad at us for leaving, and always embraced us when we returned. After sniffing us to see where we were, she would never hesitate to let us know what kind of mood she was in. It was either play time, potty time, meal time, water time, or just plain lovin’ time.

She had a personality all her own. And that is what we will all miss the most. Those of us who saw her every day for 15 years.

The house seems a little empty now. Whenever I walk in, I find myself waiting for Dusty to bark, or look up from her nap, or just plain not hear me at all. I’m waiting for something to happen, and nothing does. She’s not there anymore. She will never be there again.

But in our hearts and minds, Dusty remains strong. We remember the images and sounds of the healthy young dog that she was. We can see her running around in the front yard, chasing after a tennis ball. We can see her lying on the concrete in the backyard, getting a much needed sun–tan. We can hear her begging for food at the dinner table. We can feel those warm kisses she used to give any hand in front of her nose. I could go on for days with so many little memories.

To a patient and caring pet; a kind and gentle soul, and most importantly – a wonderful friend.

We all love you and miss you, Dusty. We will never forget you.

Categories: Recollections

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