Trudy was born in Hawaii, around Christmas time if I remember correctly. I was recovering from a surgery that didn’t go well and pretty sick but Trudy was my recovery buddy. When we picked her up, she was infested with fleas and it took days of flea baths to get rid of the bugs. At first she was not happy at being removed from her litter mates at six weeks and spent a lot of time sleeping in a laundry basket. But eventually we settled into a routine of TV and potty breaks. We watched “ER” daily and she knew by the opening music it was time to hop up on the bed and a half hour later would be a potty break. As I grew stronger, we went to the beach where she would dig massive craters in the sand and swim with me in the ocean.
Trudy was one of the most intuitive dogs I have ever had. She seemed to thrive on learning new tricks and was quite content to be 80% couch potato. Her training was easy and she learned hand signals almost as fast as verbals.
Sadly, “Toodles” was the victim of my divorce. I lived in an apartment and worked 10 hours days. She lived in a house with a yard. I never had the guts to ask what became of her. Mostly because I was afraid of the answer but I’d like to think she lived a good life and remembered our times at the beach as often as I do.
