Wednesday, May 13, 2015

remembering Amos tonight~

FROM JUNE 22, 2008:

My best friend died yesterday. Alone and hurt along the highway. God I hope it was quick.
a part of me is gone too, as I never had a happier friend than Amos was.

Amos chose me for his pet, for his companion, not the other way around. When I first laid eyes on him in November 2004, Amos was boldly standing in the middle of a dirt country road, watching me in the truck driving up. He never budged from where he was planted, despite my honking the horn, waiting on me even then. I could not go around this young puppy either way, so I stopped and got out and asked him to move, trying to shoo him over. Instead, he came up to me and stood on top my feet, as close as he could get, rubbing my shins like a cat does.
I had no choice. I picked the little puppy with those huge paws up and put him into the truck floorboards, as I drove into Mulberry, Arkansas for a cheeseburger. I didn't get a cheeseburger though. I bought Puppy chow instead.

Being adopted by this pup lifted everyones spirits in a home where death was expected. I asked my friends if they minded if I kept the pup in their garage overnight, to be taken home with me the next day or so. These friends were gracious enough to allow that- despite his obvious mange. Everyone marveled at how big this pups' paws were, and suggested his name be "Bigfoot", and for a night, he was Bigfoot.
He became Amos the next morning. After his meal of puppy chow and some table scraps, Bigfoot crapped all over the garage floor. I renamed him Amos, which stood for "A Mess Of S--t".
Amos was right at home in the woods around us here. He ruled in these acres. Amos thrived on chasing squirrles, keeping skunks away from the premises, and swimming. Reliable watchdog, everready hunting companion, comic goofball.

The word "Authority" now comes to mind. Amos was the authority around here. Amos showed me better shortcuts through the woods behind us to Sardis' shorelines, and better paths through life.

Ten thousand memories of our friendship overcome me now.  His welcomed licks and kisses home from work.  Him and the leaf blower, how he hated that thing. Amos eating a peanut butter sandwich was the time I laughed the most ever in my life.. His only doghouse, he tore it up then chewed it up into a billion splinters. Amos rattling his water bucket, raising such a racket with it in his mouth, I dug a drinking pool for him. That worked for about a day, until he learned to wallow around in it and dig up the buried garden hose.
The holes he would dig. Why? Don't know. Amos must've thought them necessary, so. Who was I to question his authority here?

Thank you, Amos, for everything. I will sorely, sorely miss you friend.

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