Thursday, October 3, 2013
Marty Beach: A Life Well Lived
As I grieve his passing, I keep remembering how much he hated to see me cry. He'd watch me like a hawk because he could sense I was upset. At the first sign of a tear, he'd jump into my lap and lick the tears away! If I was writing a painful entry in my journal, he could tell. He would come over to me and put his paw on top of my right hand as if to say, "Stop writing, it's making you sad."
I think of those moments often now. I know he wouldn't want to see me sad and crying. So I remember the two of us curled up on the sofa or taking a little drive. I remember all of the silly songs I'd make up and sing to him.
The end came quickly and unexpectedly. I don't want to talk more about it because I'll start crying again. People that don't get dogs probably think I'm being silly to miss a four-legged 9-pound canine. However, I've lost my constant companion and soul mate.
They say diamonds are a girl's best friend. Forget that. I'd gladly trade the world's biggest diamond for just another hour with my Marty.