They say time flies, and I know that's often true.  It is, however, not true for all parts of that same year, or however much time you're specifically measuring.  In some ways the past year has seemingly passed quite quickly, while a big chunk of it, a heart chunk, has gone by agonizingly slowly.

Our beloved Lily died one year ago today.

There is little I can say.  Not a single day has passed that I have not thought of her often.  Very often, actually, and most of the time when I do, I still have to force my thoughts away because I will end up crying.  Yes, I miss her that much, even with the rock steady adoration of Goblin and the goofy love of Ghost.  Lily will always be a part of my heart, and that part is mixed with her ashes in her little Memorial Garden in the back yard.  When I went out there to talk to her this afternoon, I noted that there are blooms on the choya, and the other three cacti have blooms coming (we recently added a rather fragile new one). 

So, a few Lily Memories:


In the lefthand picture, Lily, was a young lady (about 16 months old) on a playdate with 8 month old Zeke the Wolfhound (pictured elsewhere in the Gallery, link below). It was early spring in Arizona. Look how beautiful and healthy she was.

In the righthand picture, Miss Chunky started out sitting on the couch, then simply let herself fall sideways. Goblin tried to squirm out, only to find Lily wiggling her way up and next to his chest. She immediately went sound asleep, and he just gave up and did the same.

Both photos will click out larger if you like.  For those who haven't seen, here's the full Lily Gallery.

Sleep tight, Lily.  We still miss you.

A man must always have a remote within easy reach.



And, of course, our Christmas Lily (Okay, so I'm late with the picture. Whatever.):

Life with a couple of Great Danes is always interesting, but a deaf one definitely adds a little pizzazz. It took Lily about 8 months of coaxing before she would drink from the bathroom sink faucet like Goblin (he loves water and will chase after you in the yard when you try to water the plants), but she's been doing it for, oh, maybe 2 months now. Deaf Danes are often trained with squirt guns, which is a great way-- okay, the only way-- to get their attention fast from across the room. Because of that, Lily (who minds wonderfully, thanks to Deaf Dane Rescue) took some convincing to come near the faucet. Anyway, Deaf Danes are not particularly fond of things that change in their world, and since Lily also has a little bit of vision deficiency, she is also never particularly happy about things over her head. Well, this morning, in the midst of a little sip of water at the sink, she suddenly noticed the bathroom light fixutre.

Woof! Woof! Woof!

::hee hee::

We've been through this in particular with ceiling fans, of which we have a lot (we live in Arizona, after all). One of the funniest times, however, was not long after we got her in January 2003. I call this story "Lily and The Evil Muffin Monster." On a Thursday morning she became convinced that a plastic-wrapped chocolate muffin on the counter (which had been there for two days, figure that out) was the Evil Muffin Monster and she wouldn't stop barking at it, even when I offered it to her for personal investigation. I finally just put it in my bag to take to work; when I went back into the bathroom to finish getting dressed, she pulled the bag onto the floor, dug out the muffin and pulled it to the center of the floor, and started barking at it again. One has to appreciate a dog that will protect you against the evils of the universe.

I have the day off today, in honor of our wonderful U.S. Veterans. I have to keep reminding myself that it's Friday, not Saturday. I'm going to Home Depot. That will teach my husband to leave me unsupervised.