May 1, 1993 ~ August 6, 2008
Horace showed up on our doorstep around 15 years ago, a mangy, throw-away blue heeler puppy. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I took him to an emergency pet clinic, intent on putting this poor soul out of his misery. Instead, I spent the next six weeks nursing a very defensive and suspicious canine back to health. I originally didn’t intend to keep him, but grew so attached to him over the month and a half that he was wholly mine when it came to an end. I introduced him to our other dogs – Sparky was not impressed, promptly sitting on the wriggly grey and blue runt in an attempt to squish him out of existence. In contrast Honey, our shepherd-collie mix, readily adopted him, treating him like the puppy she’d never had. Horace and Honey spent the rest of his life together, playing, running, eating, sleeping and living with each other day in and day out. She misses him still, occasionally raising her head to sniff or see an old friend who is far away from her now.
In his younger years, Horace was mischievous and ornery, digging under and jumping over fences that no other dog would dare to take on, anxious to follow his instinct and “herd” the unleashed cars that so carelessly whizzed by the house. He was so territorial and protective; I worried that he’d never be friendly to anyone but our immediate family members. Mellowing as he aged, he gradually transformed into the warm, sweet, loving companion who I will always cherish and remember for his silky grey-black ears, growly bark, and mesmerizing ice-blue eyes. As time ravaged his once lithe and limber body, his sight lost to glaucoma and legs failing under him, his spirit and soul remained wild and untamed. I imagine him once again running free, eyesight restored, hind legs stable and strong, as he bounds and pounces like the athletic, energetic and daring dog he once was.
Horace, you were my sweetest puppy ever. I will never, ever forget you.
Woof in peace.
All Paws Great and Small Crematory
5611 E. Houston St.
San Antonio, TX