Remembering Nemo

My Mom is a firm believer that dogs will be in heaven. I like that idea a lot. Sure, in part because I am a dog and I like the idea of heaven, but also, because that means we will see this big lug again.
Nemo was my cousin dog. He was roly poly, surprising fast, and he loved a good belly scratching. We did not always get along. We are dogs after all, dogs from two different families, brought together for parties and camping and various work days, all of which involved food of some kind and as previously mentioned, I am a food hound. So was Nemo. There were some conflicts!
I knew when my Mom came home from visiting nephews, that she would smell of Nemo, because Mom is one of those people who gets down on the floor to play with the kids, and if a very excited Corgi came over and sat in her lap, well, she's going to not only let him, but give him so much petting he will be delirious with it.

And that was okay with me. It was very exciting for us to smell her pant legs when she came into our house. The three of us girls would surround Mom, tails wagging, ears on alert, noses going overtime. Even Olive Badger would take a turn sniffing, although I'm sure it was more of a monkey see, monkey do situation than her really understanding why we were sniffing Mom's legs!

Sadly, so very sadly, Nemo has passed on. Mom has cried and spent time petting all of us girls. Some people might say that's weird, it's just a dog and not even a dog that lived with us. But Mom remembers a big footed Corgi puppy, tumbling around in her backyard, before we were even a twinkle in her thoughts. She remembers having a dog nephew before she had real boy nephews.

She remembers Nemo, and I will too. Catch you later, Corgi-gator.