Thirteen years ago, when my family and I were living in town, Don and I decided to go for a walk around the block after dinner one night in late April while the boys were playing in the backyard.  When Don and I returned about twenty minutes later, the boys were playing with a little furry, black puppy that looked to be around eight weeks old.  They looked at us and said, “Look what showed up!”  Although I immediately fell in love (unknown to the boys, of course!), I insisted they take the puppy back where they had got it from.  They stuck with their story that “he just showed up” while they were playing.  Since I did not really want a puppy while living in town, I set out to find the owner.  After a week or two of asking around and posting signs informing the public about a puppy we had “found” with absolutely no success in finding the rightful owner, I gave in and told the boys we could keep him…but only under one condition—that I got to name him Moses (of course, had the boys argued even just a little, I would probably have let them name him).   The boys wanted to give him a middle name, and “Moses Jones Ladiski”, a black lab/chow mix, instantly became a permanent part of our family.

We had had him only a few months when he went missing.  We searched everywhere.  I finally called the animal shelter in the next town, and lo and behold, they had him!!  I went to get him and to be honest, I have never been so happy to find a lost pet!  From that day on, whenever I was not moving, Moses would literally either lay or sit ON my feet.

Eventually we moved out to the country.  Don would take Moses for walks on his leash around the boundaries of our property.  When Moses would wander past the boundaries, Don would pull him back in and tell him “no.”  After a week or so of that, we never had to worry about Moses leaving our property without us.  Well, except for the few times we attempted to have other dogs so he wouldn’t be lonely.  Obviously he was not lonely, but was definitely jealous, as he would take these other dogs on what came to be known in my family as “The Great Walk.”  He would leave with the other dog and come back alone.  To this day, I don’t believe he ever harmed the other dog...he just did not want to share his humans!

Moses was not in indoor dog at all.  He absolutely LOVED being outdoors where he could run and play and lay in the sun (and dig up my flowers!). Up until just a few months ago, whenever Don would go out to the woods to cut wood, Moses would follow along beside the jeep, play in the woods while Don was working, then follow along beside the jeep again to come home.  There was a certain spot in the backyard where Don would stop the jeep to see if Moses was going with him.  He said that by the time he got to that spot, he would know if Moses was going with him on that trip.

Moses was always great with all of our kids and grandkids.  He was protective of all of us.  Those who knew him well, know that he would have never hurt a flea.  But those who didn’t know him, usually would not get out of their vehicle unless one of us was out there with him…which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing!

He loved each and every one of his human family members unconditionally and without reservation.  He gave us absolutely everything he had in his heart for thirteen years and we are blessed to have had him for so many years.  We already miss him terribly, and will for a long, long time.  We chose to bury him on the corner of our backyard where Don would wait for him to go to the woods.  And since he loved to torture me by digging up my flowers every spring and summer, I am going to plant some back there just for him.

Rest in peace, Moses Jones Ladiski.  You have earned it.  We love you!

2001 – 2014

June 3, 2014

Dear Daddy,

You’ve been on my mind a lot the last few days, especially today.  Today marks seven years since I’ve been able to see you or talk to you, and there is so much I miss about you.

I miss your blue eyes and your beautiful silver-gray hair.

I miss the look of mischief in your eyes when you were with your grandchildren.  You had three great-grandchildren when you left.  Now you have six—and they are all so beautiful!

I miss the way you used to walk through the house with your arms tucked behind your back, and the way you would just stop in the hallway and look at a picture or stare out the window—I often wondered what you were thinking about at those times.  Now that I am a parent and my own children are grown, I have a feeling I know exactly what your thoughts were.

I miss hearing your voice on the phone, telling me to be sure to check the oil in my car and to make sure it has gas before I leave for work.  And to make sure the house doors and windows are shut and locked before I go to bed.

I even miss that big old lump in your cheek where you always had a mouthful of chewing tobacco!  After you left, I was cleaning out the closet in the room where you would stay when you came to my house and I found a couple of empty tobacco pouches you had wadded up and “hidden” on the shelf—I’m sure you left those there knowing I would need a laugh in the days to come.

I miss hearing your laugh, Daddy.  At your funeral, so many people commented on the fact that they could always pick you out of a crowd just by hearing your laugh.  What a wonderful way to be remembered—you laughed a lot and it was a beautiful laugh.

What I miss the most though is the constant, never-failing love you had for me.  Even in times when I wasn’t so loveable, you kept right on loving me…no matter what I said or did or how many mistakes I made in life.  And I just want to take a minute to thank you for that.  Because of your love, I am the person I am today.  Because of your love for me, I know how and what it means to love to my children.

I miss you, Daddy….so, so much. 

I love you always,
Ruth

In loving memory of Walter Ellet McDonald
December 11, 1924 – June 3, 2007