I can't tell you how many times over the years that I have heard those words spoken about Whitney. Sweetie, was the right description for her and became one of many names we would call her. Wittie, Bugger, Bug, Whitney wooser, Wee Hoo Hoo, Sweet girl, and Wittie bug are just a few of her other names. Of course, she answered to all of them.
I am writing this post for the kids, but also for myself because I want to have something tangible for us to look back on when the memories aren't so clear anymore. You tell yourself that that day won't happen, but I am realistic and I know it will come. Reminicising over the last few days, I have realized how much I don't recall of the times when she was little. Please bear with me as I put my thoughts down. This will be a long post.
The last few days have been so hard for me. Whitney was my first baby and I have been so very overwhelmed with grief. It strikes when I least expect it, when I am alone in the car or the kids are down for a nap and of course when I am in the shower. Today, I vaccumed and succumbed to tears because I rememebered that every time after I vaccumed the floor she would lay down on her back and roll over the clean carpet. Noah was also upset that I vaccumed because then her hair would be gone and she would be gone also. My emotions are very raw and I am sure I won't make it through this post without crying.
A friend of ours, Ronald, brought Whitney to us in college when we were only kids ourselves. Brian was 20 and I was 19 and she was only 4 weeks old. She was named Whitney after Whitney Houston who was singing on the t.v. at the time. She slept next to me in the bed until the last two years when she couldn't jump up on the bed anymore. She used to love to curl up on the couch with her head on a pillow. She loved to lay down in our window box when we lived in an apartment soaking in the sunshine. She also loved to lay down in the back of my camaro and watch the traffic go by.
The first few weeks we had her, she would spend the time we were in class in her crate watching the religous channel. It was the only thing that would silence her insane barking! She would bark all day long! She was first put on our answering machine barking 14 years ago and has been on there ever since. If we ever needed her to bark, all you had to say was the word "puppy" and off she went barking. She was the cutest little ball of fur and her nick-name was "piggy puppy" because that is what she looked like.
We took her everywhere with us. We didn't realize that she probably wasn't supposed to go to everyone's house, we just assumed that she was one of us and she was going. It wasn't until Gracie came along that my parents gently told us that the dogs needed to stay home when we came to visit.
She loved to do the wild-run when she got excited. She would duck her butt down and run with her head up as fast as she could go. She loved to catch her "hoopy-loopy" toy, a tennis ball and she loved a good game of tug with daddy's socks. When Gracie arrived, Wittie was the alpha dog and we enjoyed watching the two of them play sock and Gracie submit when Wittie wanted her way. She enjoyed going on walks and liked to swim in the pond across the street from my parents house. She did not however like to swim in the swimming pool! She did love to lay on the top step of the pool and lounge like a queen.
Back to the barking... she barked at everything. She was never a very social animal with other dogs. She would bark and lunge and act like she was going to attack. Of course, it was all an act to "protect us". In 14 years, she never bit anyone. She barked at the garbage truck and people walking in front of the house. When cataracts covered her eyes, she would bark at any movement outside, the tree blowing or a car driving by. She always barked when the garage door when up to tell me Brian was home or someone had dropped by. The neighbors even called the police one night, because she was outside barking while I was inside vaccuming. I will miss her barking, she made me feel safe and protected. I never worried when she was in the house, because I knew she would take care of me. The last year, the barking diminished because of her eyes and her hearing wasn't so good. The kids and I could walk in the house and turn the t.v. on and she would be sound asleep. I would have to clap my hands to get her attention. Up until the day she died, I would clap my hands and she would slowly get up, struggling to balance herself , but obediently complying with my command. During that time, I longed for her to be more alert, but now I just long to have her here!
Brian and I only thought of Whitney's best interest and we knew all those years ago that we wanted to get into a house with a nice yard because she deserved it after living in so many different places. Some of the place she lived were in Huntsville, Houston, Willis, Huntsville again, Amarillo, Garland, Dallas and three different places in Plano, Tx. She always adjusted well after every move and started to relax once the boxes left the house.
This next part is a little gross, so skip it if you want to. Two memories that will stand out forever are the "fire-hose poop" and "throwing up worms". Every puppy has worms and Whitney decided to vomit live worms up when she was little. That was probably the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. The other incident was when she was trying to go to the bathroom one night, she was startled and she spun around and sprayed the entire side of the apartment building with runny poop. Brian and I couldn't not stop laughing to save our lives!
That brings me to eating. She was always a very independent dog and that holds true for her eating habits. She enjoyed eating her dinner ever night between 11:30 p.m and 3:00 a.m. This proved more difficult when Gracie came along and ate everything in sight. Whitney obediantly pushed her dinner time up to 10:30 p.m. so we could all get some sleep before midnight. Since July, it has been a labor of love cooking and feeding Whitney. She stopped eating not because she didn't want to but because the disease was making her nauseaus. First she stopped eating her dry dog food, we tried soft food, then she ate cooked chicken and toast, chicken broth, lunch meat, and then cooked hot dogs and finally raw hot dogs. It got to the point, that it didn't matter what it was as long as she ate. We knew it was the end when she couldn't eat or drink anything.
Whitney gave our family 14 wonderful years of unconditional love. Right up until the last few minutes of her life when her body failed her she was still being obedient. And then she went to sleep.
"Sweet dreams, baby girl...I will always love you."
After she died at 3:30 a.m. Sunday morning, Brian loving buried her under a Pecan tree on my parents land. She will never be physically far from us and her love and memories will stay in my heart forever.
