Two-Hundred and Thirty-Seven. Dirty Mouth.

Thumper loved many things in his life and dirt was one of them. Being part beagle he had a nose for smells, and he used it. Thumper would always be snooting around and sniffing out new scents. He also liked to bury things. But Thumper dug and buried in a very special way: with his nose. He was a master at digging holes. Sometimes better than other dogs who used their paws. Burying things was one of his most notable traits. Corn cobs, bones, toads...you name it and Thumper buried it. He also loved to rub his snout on the ground. He would put his nose on the ground, pick up his front feet, and walk with his back feet. He would turn his head side to side allowing his direction to vary. Even at the very end he still rubbed his snout on the ground.

Two-Hundred and Thirty-Six. Thumper's Slide.

Thumper and I grew up together. We had the age of innocence and the fun of a swing set with a slide. He would run up and down the slide with a jumping kick at the end. He was so happy being on his slide. I think a lot of it had to do with being at eye level with me when he was at the top. Many days he would sit at the top of the slide as I would swing next to him. And many more days he would simply sit at the top and just watch the world as it happened before him. He was such a happy boy when he was on his slide.



Thank you, Andrea, for making Thumper come to life again in this photo.

Two-Hundred and Thirty-Five. Good-Bye, My Sweet Friend.

You were my boy, my friend, my dog, and I love you.
I will miss how you used to hop when you ran.
I will miss how you would sit and shake paws.
I will miss how you would bark as I would come and leave.
I will miss how you and I would have adventures on our walks.
I will miss how you knew I was near, even when you could not see or hear me.
I will miss how you would bury and dig with your nose.
I will miss how you would rub your snout on the ground.
I will miss all of these things, but most of all I will miss you.
Until we meet again; run free, chase toads, sniff until you can't sniff any more...and wait for me.

Two-Hundred and Thirty-Four. Bucket Calf.

Two-Hundred and Thirty-Three. All Ears.

Two-Hundred and Thirty-Two. To Touch the Moon.

Two-Hundred and Thirty-One. Childhood Escape.

Two-Hundred and Thirty. The Forest for the Trees.

This area is along a stretch of highway near my family's acreage. It seems so plain and tree-y as you are driving by, but when you actually stop and take a look it's rather amazing.

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Nine. How He Says Goodbye.

Scoot is such a good boy. Whenever I come home he runs outside to the fence line and is all smiles and wags. But when I leave he gets this particular look on his face as if to say "Please don't go". He never wags or smiles when he knows I'm leaving, even when I try to get him to.

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Eight. The Tail's Tale.