Perhaps it’s true that it isn’t the duration of life, it’s the fullness. If that’s true, my dear sweet Reva wasn’t robbed, although it still feels that way every day. So I beg your indulgence while I share a few more memories.
She loved to watch TV. Especially other animals.
When she was getting attention, she made snorty sounds that we called “pig dog.”
We called her “Reva the Diva” but she was never truly a diva. She just loved… her people, life, snacks. The “pecking order” was of no interest.
As my brother often said, she was “differently brained.” About a week before she died when she was feeling pretty chipper, I was in the basement jogging on the treadmill, and my mom was folding laundry with Reva “helping” when she took it into her head to join me on the machine. We were both pretty surprised — she that it was moving and me that she did it.
She was a true earth dog. Vermin were the enemy. When she was about 2 years old, we went to a Scottie club event where they introduced earth dog training. Basically, a “tunnel” at the end of which were the rats. Reva figured out very quickly where the rats were, and decided there was no need to go through the tunnel when she could just run around it.
At home, she was always looking for the mice, and when we walked along the shore, she walked at the very edge of the walk along the rocks, making us nervous that she might just jump down the rocks after something. The other two were never so focused, but the week after she died, we took Cash and Penny to the shore for a walk, and they both were “edge walkers,” perhaps in tribute to Reva.
Sometimes as I am waking up in the morning, I forget that she is gone. I have lost animals before, and loved and missed them all. But this is by far the worst, and I thank you for all your kindness — in my comments, on Facebook and in person. Your support means everything.
I miss her so much.