It didn’t seem that long, but it was.  Sixteen years, I had loved that dog.  Too soon to part, but a good many years for a dog.

    His name was Hercules, better known as Herky.  He was strong, tough and ready to defend.  He was only a small Chihuahua, but he didn’t know it.

    Herky, was spoiled, yet so loving.  He accepted the births of both my children, without any problems.  He was with us for so many major events in our lives.  We moved four times with him.  The last move was cross-country.  Herky adapted so well.

    When he left us, there was such a void in our lives.  I cried, all the time.  One morning, I heard a familiar sound.  It was Herky’s nails on the kitchen floor.  I can’t explain the good feeling it gave me.  He was still here!  This continued for a few months.

    His habit was to go to the kitchen every morning, to see if the coffee was ready.  Yes, he drank it with milk and a little sugar.  That’s just the way my Mom drank hers.  She’s the one who started giving it to him.  Remember, he was the first grandchild!

    My Mom has since passed, and I know she and Herky are together.  I like to think of them sharing a cup of coffee.  It makes me smile.

                                                                                        — Jennifer