S is For Staffie Extraordinaire

That would be Sweetpea, my Staffordshire Bull Terrier who died on this very date three years ago.  Now, I can’t go on too long about this because it’s still a very tender spot. So I’ll just leave you with an excerpt from my memoir Loveyoubye.  This was not long after my husband left me and a couple of months before dear Sweetpea died. I still have Jake and now Fergie, both of them Staffies.

“Sometimes, Sweetpea sat opposite me in the other chair (of my new bistro set), butt sideways, constantly having to shift her paws to stay put on the small round metal seat. She and Jake had worked it out; he never once tried to sit there even if she wasn’t around. Every now and then she did her little throat-clearing thing and stared off into whatever direction she happened to be facing at the time. Whenever I spoke to her she would turn, ears fully pricked, white-rimmed eyes boring into mine. I’d say something like, I love you, or You’re so beautiful, and her ears would relax, and if she were human I could go ahead and tell you that her face would soften, her eyes would crinkle at the edges, and she would give me a look as intimate as any I’ve ever shared with anyone.”

9 thoughts on “S is For Staffie Extraordinaire

  1. The special gift we receive from certain animals provides the proof that our deepest wordless connections matter-to us and to them. A reminder that just because we have vocal speech doesn’t signify any superiority. Quite the opposite–as we often get so busy with our words and thoughts that we forget to just be–unlike animals, who offer so much, only asking for a few necessities and a little decency in return for unconditional love. It sounds like Sweetpea knew all the secrets of love and communication. I’m sorry for your loss(es) Rossandra. Thank you for sharing this special friend with us.

  2. Every dog is different; all dogs are the same . . . in the way the evocation of one brings to mind some peculiar, delightful, touching, and, yes, annoying characteristic of my own Maggie, gone, too. 🙁 You would have been charmed by her, as I am by your reminiscences of Sweetpea.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *