Look at that Seedy go. Look at her run in the snow.

On this cold, blustery day with the clouds spitting snow, it seemed like time to add a new post about Ceili.






Ceili loved the cold. It seemed her favorite time to lay out on the porch was when it was 15 degrees and blustery. Of course with a coat enough for five dogs, I guess it was perfect weather.
Ceili loved the snow. As a younger dog, Ceili and I did most of out hiking when there was snow on the ground. I liked to track animals and Ceili was a quiet dog...we made a good team. When she was older and couldnt hike so much Jeff and I would still take her out in the snow and let her play and remember her young days. Snow made her young again. She loved to run in it, roll in it, and eat it.
I miss her this cold day.

Ceili and the Cats

Ceili was always a cat-lovin' dog. Sure she did occassionally "maul" a cat. But she was good to them, never actually hurt them, just snuffled around in their coats and looked like she was going to tear 'em. Hence the name Tearumseed.

The Dog and Her Girl

Ceili hiked this mountain-top Tuesday, the day before she died. She loved the cool breezes up there and would lay there for hours if we let her. But she didnt ever let me out of sight. If I wandered to far off she would be right behind me. She was more loyal than words can describe.

Half a Life Without a Dog

Yesterday I was cut in half. Ceili at 13 years old and still going strong was struck and killed by a truck. She was doing her normal that morning. Following me and keeping an eye on everyone else.
Ceili had been with me since I was 18. She never let me down through these early years of my adult life. She was happy when I was happy. Sad when I was sad. But ALWAYS knew when was the right time to make me laugh. And she could make me laugh. She may not have been able to talk but she had enough tricks in that thick coat to find just the right one to use.

Ceili was home to me. Werever she was, that was home. We made it through very hard difficult times, fun and exciting times and dull, monotonous times . Together.

Its only half a life without this dog.

If facing the facts is to be called a pessimist, I am willing to be called a pessimist. If in order to be an optimist one must shut his eyes and call black white, and error truth, and sin righteousness, and death life, I don't want to be called an optimist. But I am an optimist all the same. Pointing out the real condition will lead to a better condition. R.A. Torrey

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