Today (July 24) is my day to honor my first and most special dog, Dominoe, who left this world in 1993. Is it really 17 years? That’s a full generation. And it was long after that that I told her story like 50 million times.
It’s been a long way too since Rossridge Apartments, in Baltimore, the place I was living when I took her in, when my room-mate Kevin literally called me and said, “do you want a dog?” This was a cusp of time in many ways, leaving the life of a place I grew up in and hardly left, and turning that whole leaf less than 10 monts later, by packing all my stuff, including Dominoe, into a 1973 Ford Maverick and driving it all the way to Arizona.
You should never forget your first dog. Or your last. Or all the ones in between. I know I don’t.
Keeping the memories flickering (and flickring).
Thanks again, Dominoe….