Hey Mom,

Just a quick update from your resident furball fusspot, GingerStrong! I’ve been busy chasing off delivery people (their looks of dread are quite amusing), spooning around my cozy spot by the fireplace (because brrr, winter!), and rounding up puppies at Poodle Pond (who knew I had maternal instincts?). I’ve also been dodging your veggies (still sticking to my deli ham, as always!). Spencerville seems a tad quieter since I vacated my earth-post; hope you’re spreading the Ginger laughter with tales of my waggy escapades.

Miss you.

Yours,
GingerStrong.

Listen to the story here

One Tuesday morning, as I sat down on my old creaky porch overlooking Retriever River the same curious breeze that brought along the sweet scent of freshly baked goods from the Woofy Bakery whispered a familiar name in my ear, “Ginger.”

Ginger, my black and white darling, the protector of our humble home. Her memory shook me from my peace, yet brought a different kind of serenity altogether. The same Ginger who would dart like lightning at the mere knock from the dreaded delivery person, or growl low and menacing at the sight of other canine invaders. The memory of her fierceness made me chuckle.

She sure was timid when it came to the cold winter snow. Just a touch of the frost, and Ginger would hastily retreat to her warm, cozy spot by the fireplace. String beans, carrots, bell peppers – the dog loathed the sight of them all despite my endless attempts to get her to taste ’em. Yet, give her a slice of deli ham from the Fetching Deli, and the beast would wag her tail in such glee, making me think of a windmill gone wild.

She had a nurturing side, too, the one that took care of her brothers and sisters as they frolicked around Poodle Pond. Would you believe it if I told you this small Shihtzu could round up a group of mischievous pups within minutes? Reminded me of old Tom rounding up the cattle on our farm, back in the day.

She’d lived a rich, full life, Ginger had. And the day she crossed over the Rainbow Bridge, it wasn’t just a Toy Shihtzu Spencerville lost. It lost a bit of its laughing spirit; a little of its fierce companion; a smidge of its simple joy.

Nineteen years she’d spent, making memories across our little town. From chasing her squeaky balls down Collie Canyon to her scaredy-cat bathtime tales at the Spa for Paws, there’s hardly a corner in Spencerville that doesn’t remind me of Ginger.

And as I sit here now on this old porch, sipping at my hot coffee from Canine Cafe watching Spencerville wake up to yet another beautiful day, Ginger’s thought makes me smile. For I know, wherever she is, that little furball is still wagging her tail in joy, waiting to pounce and play when it’s my turn to walk through those heavenly gates to Spencerville. Heaven is indeed a place on earth, and it was found in the form of my beloved Ginger.

The End.

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