Coma

I think I fell in love with her at first sight.  Brandon was playing in a soccer game at the Butterfly and Coma was sitting with her owner near the sidelines.  She was 5 months old and had so much extra skin.  I knelt down and petted her.  She sort of melted into my lap.  Her owner was moving out of town and in a week Coma was living at our house.  She ran 3 miles with me every morning until one summer when I awakened her and asked if she were ready.  She raised her head, looked at me and put her head back down on the bed as if to say, "no thanks."  She never ran in the park with me again.  Running with her was exciting.  A squirrel or rabbit in the park caused her to tear out after the animal with me holding her leash and running at break neck speed.  In Opine she ran through the woods--down a path and back to be sure I was following.  She was beautiful when she ran.  She never did catch a squirrel or a rabbit.

Coma was the epitome of a dog--couldn't resist food within reach--and all food on a counter was within her reach; the kitchen garbage was fair game if she were left alone; she chewed everything that smelled like a human--stuffed toys, shoes, purses, wallets, my binoculars; she tried desperately to break through the front door whenever anyone outside came near it; and she loved to be petted on the head and scratched under her neck.   One of my favorite memories is the day she took the bag of marshmallows from the kitchen counter.  She must have really liked them because she "saved" them.  We found marshmallows buried between sofa cushions and behind pillows on chairs throughout the living room.

A bloodhound, she was big--95 pounds, with lots of loose skin; her howling bark was a beautiful sound; she shed; she slobbered; and she slept like a log.  She was a good dog--our family dog for 14 years and I miss her.