I
lost my precious dog Liggy last night. She was one special Yorkie who did
nothing but love me. She came to me through Rilynne’s other grandmother. Kristi
was looking for a home for her and had originally given her to a neighbor but
once I saw her, I fell in love with her. Kristi had said she was bringing the
dog by for Rilynne to see but I thought she said it was Rilynne’s dog so I was attached
to her immediately. We worked things out but Joe was not too happy about our
arrangement. He thought it was too close to the time of losing our Bugsy and he
wasn’t ready to make the move to another dog. But something about Liggy
endeared me even more to Bugsy. They were both small dogs, both had a loving
nature, and they both made that same Ewok sound.
Her
original owner had named her Little Girl but I just couldn’t call her that,
after all we already had a Precious. I toyed with her name for some time and
finally decided I would use the initials LG since my grandmother had said it
was bad luck to change a dog’s name. Now if you said LG really fast it sounded
like Liggy, so that’s what it became. She was my one-of-a-kind pal.
The
only other dog I had that was truly mine was a little dog I named Babs. Mother
had taken my brother, Levi, and me to the Birmingham Humane Society to let us
adopt an animal since we needed some comfort after she and our dad had divorced.
I immediately fell for Babs and Levi adopted a beagle mix he named Daisy. Since
we didn’t have a lot of money and the required visit to the vet was not a must
back then, we brought the dogs home with just a basic deworming and shots from
the Humane Society. Babs developed distemper and she didn’t last very long
since she was a tiny little dog. I remember the day in junior high when my
mother picked me up from school and said she had some news to tell me. I
completed her sentence before she even had time. “Babs is dead, isn’t she?” I
don’t think I ever got over that little dog so when Liggy came around it
brought back some fond memories of the short time I had with a dog of my very
own.
Liggy was a year and a half old when we got her, so she was already house
trained…well, not exactly. That is the one thing Joe disliked about her
behavior. I made up excuses like, she ate too late, or she couldn’t help it,
but I knew she only went out when she felt like it. She was a stubborn little
pup.
Liggy loved to taunt the bigger dogs. My son’s huge Rhodesian Ridgeback
was terrified of my little 8-pound, barking, ball of fur. If Liggy came up
during Vader’s free run at the church property, Jeff’s huge 70-pound mutt would
make a beeline straight back to the car. I have honestly seen him shudder at Liggy’s
“ferocious” bark.
And our two new rescue dogs didn’t catch a break either. When I would
give all three of them a rawhide chew, the bigger dogs would devour their
treats in a few minutes which gave Liggy the perfect opportunity to wave her
treasure in their faces. I loved to give them all a rawhide straw and watch
Liggy carry hers in her mouth just like a cigar. She’d growl her Ewok growl
when either canine came near.
Most
of all, Liggy loved to ride. She was just born that way. Any time I started to
put on my shoes, she would start her barking tirade to go with me. She would prance
around in a circle and give the most annoying yap until she got my attention. I
took her everywhere I could. If she was not able to go, I’d simply say, “I’ll be
right back,” and she’d know it wasn’t possible and stop her barking. I’d say
that’s pretty smart for any dog.
She loved to travel to the lake where she had free reign in the
surrounding yards. Most of the time no one was home so she could go wherever
she pleased. My only grumble was when she wanted out at night to do her thing.
I was afraid to let her out by herself after Precious died so I’d have to stand
on the deck and wait for her.
Liggy loved riding in the boat, too. When we’d beach it to take a swim,
she’s be right in there with us. She always swam toward me with her life jacket
on since I didn’t fully trust her swimming abilities. She was on the upper end
of a Yorkie’s weight range, just like her human mama (me).
I certainly learned a lot from
Liggy. There are life lessons we can all learn from our animals. In fact, the
world today would be a much better place if we all could be a little more like our
furry friends.
One lesson I learned from Liggy was the meaning
of unconditional love. If I was mad, she loved me. If I was sad, she loved me.
If I screamed at her for having an accident on the carpet, she still loved me.
I didn’t have to think like her, act like her, or be like her, she just loved
me.
Liggy taught me how to live in the moment. If
I returned home, she was happy to see me. If I came back from the mailbox, she
was happy to see me. If we went on a walk, she was happy to be with me. She didn’t think about what I had done in the
past, she didn’t care what I was going to do. She just loved me for what I was
then and there.
And Liggy taught me how to enjoy a meal
and a good nap. She would bark for her evening meal between 7:30 and 8:00 every
night. It didn’t matter if we were in the middle of a great movie, watching a
weather alert, or if the Crimson Tide had just scored a touchdown, the girl wanted
her meal and she wanted it NOW. Most any other time she could be found taking a
nap on the blue blanket in her spot in the laundry room. I buried her in her
blue blanket.
So,
life is sad for me now, and lonely since I had never realized how much my Liggy
was my constant companion. I still cry now and then and I probably will for a
bit longer. When I reach my final reward, I will have many questions to ask
Jesus, but this one will be the first: Why do dogs only live such a short time?
I find comfort in what the Psalmist wrote in Psalms 36:6 “Your righteousness is like the highest mountains, your
justice like the great deep. You, LORD, preserve both people and animals.” NIV
I am touched
by what her groomer said when I text her. She reminded me of how sweet Liggy
was and how honored she was to have been her hairdresser. In her words, “May
God bring you comfort. He’s already granted her peace next to His side waiting
for you till we are all together again.” And she added, “At least she went over
the Rainbow Bridge with a fresh haircut.”
