My husband suggested pizza for lunch, and I was glad for a quick easy meal. It wasn’t until I had eaten my first piece, leaving the crust, that I realized—I was saving that crust for a dog that was no longer with us.
We’d had Ribbons, a black and white Boston terrier, for five years and eight months. She loved pizza crust. She never barked or made a fuss; she would just sit nearby quietly waiting. Sometimes she would sit up and beg or simply reach out with a paw to gently touch my leg. Who could resist?
This was the first pizza we’d eaten since she died four months earlier.
Memories Come from Reminders
It usually hits you when you don’t expect it. Something prods your memory and brings it all back just when you thought it was gone. I’d forgotten about Ribbons and pizza crust until I automatically saved a piece of crust. There will always be reminders.
We try to forget the sadness so it doesn’t hurt so much. But if we forget everything about a lost pet, we’ve closed the door on precious memories as well! Ribbons was a sweet dog, and we loved her very much. Sometimes I felt sorry for her because she was so serious and didn’t seem to have much fun. At first, I thought she was timid; but a better word would be conscientious. She tried hard to please. I remember how she always watched me, looking intently perhaps for direction or approval.
A Tribute to Ribbons
Ribbons was the Boston terrier that helped me find my healing place after losing a son. She was my companion as I walked the nearby secluded field where God’s presence comforted me. She followed my husband everywhere he went in the house, waiting patiently until he went back to the sofa. He really believed she was watching over him.
When I took her outside, I didn’t need a leash unless I took her for a long walk. A neighbor once commented on her never leaving the yard. Only once did she run away from me; I’ll share that story another time. But there are many precious stories I can share about this Boston terrier named Motif’s She Wore a Yellow Ribbon.
We said goodbye to our sweet girl on her ninth birthday, after three days of seizures. I’ll share that story another time.