Sweet Baylee Girl

We had to say good-bye to my sweet Baylee this morning.

I remember the first time I saw her, bounding up and down a chain link fence, begging me to play while I raked our new backyard in Charleston, SC. She lived two doors down with her humans who were about to add a fourth boy to their family and had two other dogs. But base housing would only allow two animals, so they had to give one away. It worked out well because her little boy could come over and play with her any time he missed her (he came often). I think it eased the blow a bit.

Our household of boys was no surprise to her! She was infinitely patient and never snapped at anyone, even when babies would pull her ears and her fur and her jowels and her tail.

She had the softest, velvety fur, much longer than most other boxers - like down feathers when compared to flight feathers. She hated lightning and thunder and tried to chew her way out of any confining space (which is why we had to kennel her).
She was a petite little thing. At her highest weight, she was only 56 pounds, I think. She had these big soulful eyes, the same fawn brown of her coat.

She used to run with Hubs and me, before we needed a jogging stroller. One time, while Hubs was training for a marathon, she decided that she was done running. She stopped and lay down in the cool grass. No amount of coaxing would get her up. Hubs ended up carrying her most of the way home! She loved to chase a ball too - tennis balls were her favorite.

She was my buddy through all of Hubs' deployments and even at the end rarely left my side. She needed to know where all her peeps were. She convinced my farm boy husband that animals could, in fact, live inside!

She had a litter of 6 pups when she was 6 years old. My sister and I kept two of them (she owned the father of the litter). My sister just had to say good bye to Duke a few weeks ago. It will be nice to have two reminders of her running around for a little while longer.

I'll never understand the way an animal can connect with a human. It is a gift. I will miss my girl!