Baby. Bub. Mate. Dekembe. Abe. Henry. I could go on and name the numerous titles given to this dog, but in the end, he was Baby-and he was Mary’s Baby.
He was a dog full of life and unmitigated joy, and he was completely in love with Mary. For all my grumblings, I know that he was a smart dog. He just had no time at all to listen to me, and preferred to spend time riding around in the car with Mary, windows down, and country music playing. He was a trouble-maker, no doubt, but he had the strongest sense of loyalty one could wish for.
From the moment he was brought home, late at night, a little ball of black fur with soft dark eyes,
to his last days, flitting around under and over and upon the numerous Slattery siblings, he brought smiles to people’s faces. His goofy face and exuberant gallop never failed to lift spirits.
He was just a puppy, but when I came home for Christmas break, I could see the type of dog he was growing into. He was intelligent and was a handsome dog in his last days. Mary was the one who always saw that potential and loved him for it resolutely. Sadly, Mary’s Baby and our Bub died last night, hit by a car on the road next to our house. Good bye, Baby, you will be so missed.