Man’s but really our best friend

Unexpectedly, our good friend (i.e., our dog: “White Sock”) passed away. She was a mixture of English Springer Spaniel and Labrador Retriever, quite a beautiful combination. While she wasn’t young, she wasn’t that old; yet apparently suffered from undetected liver cancer. A tipping point must have been reached just a few days ago, when she took suddenly quite ill and passed away Tuesday morning.

Someone said to me the other day that the only downside to having a dog is that they don’t live long enough. It’s really hard to lose such a good friend.

While perhaps over simplified, a good friend is someone who is happy to see you, appreciates you, and makes you feel good. A really good friend is someone who can make you happy, by simply themselves being happy.

White Sock was happy to wake us up, happy to go outside (she’d do circles in front of the door), and even happy to wait (with intense concentration) for a morsel of food at the table. Of course, breakfast and dinner were the best of times.

You know you’ve got a good friend when they make you mad, and you forgive them right away.

You know you have a good friend when they appreciate (if not luxuriate) in your efforts to make them happy (even if it is just a good scratch behind the ears).

But, perhaps the nicest part of having White Sock in the family was when we returned from trips abroad. Family trips to the old homestead can be emotionally difficult. One heads back to Israel feeling a bit like one is leaving home, and arrives even a bit sad — to be home.

Yet, White Sock never let us forget where our home was and is — leaping into the air out of pure joy upon our return.

We miss her.

Barry Lynn