Facebook shoved a little memory page at me yesterday, and it is the eyes you see above. This is Douglas. My first boxer, but never to be my last. He had such a special relationship with our neighbor Mr. Tate.
My friend first, and boss second, commented on the Facebook post that the stories of Mr. Tate and Douglas were some of the best! They certainly were a pair. I still miss this man. He made an everlasting impression on my heart. And, the dog? Well you all know the rest of that story.
This was written several years ago.
Thank you Mr. Tate…
For teaching me how to peal, core, and dry apples in the sun that will last forever in the fridge.
For waiting for me to come home every evening, sitting in your lounge chair, just waiting. I know it was really about Douglas and not me, but thank you. And thank you for watching and playing with him for 20 minutes so that I could change, relax, and then come sit with you.
For telling me that you hated bottled water and that it was a rip off for consumers.
For teaching me about the butterflies that come thru every season. I would not have noticed had you not shown me.
For spending 4 hours putting my treadmill together.
For getting me back into my house when I had locked myself out.
For teaching me what valor means, without really me knowing it. A medal you received while serving in the Military, that you never ever mentioned…that even only your son realized after you were gone. That was just you.
For making the very best sweet potato casserole ever.
And the best pickles…I know it is the alum, or whatever.
For allowing me to make you shake hands with a “colored” neighbor, as you called him. For allowing me to teach you to trust what you had been taught not to.
For letting Douglas play endlessly in your sprinkler.
For just talking and talking and talking. Remember the time I refused to talk anymore, because you refused to wear your hearing aid, and brought a pencil and pad out to you…because I was tired of yelling to you so you could hear me? That lasted about 2 minutes…you won. I kept yelling.
Thank you for mowing my lawn and then telling me an old man down the street came by and did it.
Thank you for your Thanksgiving lunches with me, you, and Dave.
Thank you for your stories of your mom and dad and the farm and the garden.
Thank you for loving me. Still not quit sure why, but thank you.
Thank you for caring for Douglas when you thought he had broken his leg. Coming over and bandaging him up.
Thank you for taking your sling shot at the big bad yellow cat that used to try to beat up Harry. You were very proud of that weren’t you?
Thank you for your guidance on the golf course. I was asked today if I would still come out and play golf with the guys and I said…”Well I lost my coach.” But, sure.
I wish everyone I know and love could have known you. They too would have loved you. I will always miss you, me and D. But I also know that I have a new angle watching over us.
With all our love,
g and d