In a time when cynicism, doubt, and criticism of their kind permeated our culture, we stumbled forward clumsily with our “outcast”.
Me, my girl, and my dog...”Blitzy”
We weathered the storm of not being allowed to bring her around my brother’s children, and the looks of disdain we received from strangers when we announced her breed.
We were even advised that American Staffordshire Terriers had an “Evil gene” that predisposed them to violence...
I say that we “heard it all”, but the reality is that their comments fell on deaf ears, because we made a promise to make our decisions about Blitzy based on love, faith, and understanding of something that was often misunderstood.
As the years passed we became inseparable, and Blitzy accompanied us always...
I say always not as an exaggeration but as a fact,
Grayson Highlands
Portsmouth Island
Our wedding on Claytor Lake...
Through it all, Blitzy was our constant companion.
Adventures aside, there was the simple satisfaction of her always being there waiting for me after work, tail wagging, running to pick up her bone, the scene never got old in all the times that it played out.
But time took its toll as it always does, and on our last camping trip to the island we realized Blitzy simply wasn’t the same.
It’s one of those things where you know it has to come, but you’re never prepared when it does.
I could see it in her eyes as she drifted away that she was happy and unafraid to meet her maker.
We buried her body near the trail she loved to run, where the early morning sun would shine like so many times on her pink belly in the past.
There is a chime in the tree over her grave so that when the wind blows it will remind us of our times together.
Hardwood floors are made for the paws of pit bulls, and it’s awfully quiet in the country tonight...
We love you Blitzy and we miss you so.
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