Sue Pearson | Sun, 09/02/2007 - 10:31
“It is a fearful thing to love what death can touch…” - Author Unknown He had a welcome home wag that pumped his tail straight up and down, before it circled around and launched into a perfect figure eight. Born in my kitchen during the spring of 1991, he was a handsome hunk of tri-colored magnificence. His sturdy legs and heavy duty paws earned him the name of Sherman Alexander, a reflection of his invincible, tank-like appearance. When he went to live with his new family later that summer, I found myself missing the chaos of three beagles, and the soft snoring noise he made while sleeping. His mother and sister gradually settled into a new and quieter routine and as unbelievable as it seemed, life went on without him. Seven years later, Alex was unexpectedly returned to me and though I was sad and disappointed for him, I knew that this change was necessary.