It was two years ago today and I still miss my sweet chocolate boy. I named him Luther Martin, after Martin Luther King Jr. A hard name to live up to. But, in my mind, he did.
Even as a puppy, he tried to retrieve my eight-year-old daughter out of the pool.
He loved cantaloupe. He knew he was loved.
And when the new “kids” came around, he accepted them, too.
We took him to our homestead in the Texas Hill Country where you can look far into the distance. I didn’t know it would be his last time. But Luther knew.
Because he stared at the sunset, then into the darkness.
Two years ago yesterday, he celebrated his last Christmas with the family. He ate a full plate of “Christmas”.
Two years ago today, as Luther lay on a pallet at the vet’s office, I fed him two McDonald’s cheeseburgers so he could rise up and meet his sunset.
And so, he did.