Let's Go

Cheeky the Rescue Dog in her last years. 

Her cold nose taps my elbow and frightens me out of the rhythm of the sewing machine. Cheeky the rescue dog is trying to rescue me. She probably sees me sewing away the day as boring and dull. There is a world outside she’d like to explore. Let’s go, she says with her cold wet nose on my elbow.

Cheeky, the rescue dog, with her expressive eyes reminds me that there is more to life than sitting. Sitting at the computer, the television, the sewing machine. Let’s go, she says with her expressive eyes.

Cheeky has her own unique vocabulary. She understands a multitude of words and has many word sounds of her own. She is impatient and frustrated if I don’t get moving and she makes sure to let me know. Let’s go she says with her voice.

Cheeky the rescue dog had bad hips, and a young dog’s heart. Her heart wanted to run for miles, to chase balls, rabbits, squirrels, and gophers. Her hips were uncooperative. And so we massaged them and took many short walks as the alternative was replacement or putting her down. The first unaffordable, the second unacceptable.

Cheeky the rescue dog with bad hips that made it hard to get up from her bed, would bring her cold nose down the hallway to that sewing room and would nudge me with her cold nose and say let’s go. 

And so we would.