Remembering Luna

This weekend marks the second anniversary of the death of Luna, the sweet and funny Fox terrier mix who was in my life for 10 years and was my companion (or assistant) for many years as I worked from home. She made me a better human being. (The photo below was taken in Islamorada. She loved the Keyes.)

She had a good life of 17 years and one month. A lover of sushi on Friday nights and chicken anytime, she was the best loving dog I have ever known and she taught me so much about taking care of a dog, which has helped me with Chuchy, the Pomerarian that belongs to my sister but I care for as needed. Luna witnessed and experienced so much of my personal history over 10.5 years before she died.

She got to meet and know my late parents and even took rides with us to Publix. When her other papi was away in Costa Rica, she slept in my childhood bedroom in Miami Beach, my rental apartment in Coral Gables and then my studio condo in Coral Gables where for some reason, she enjoyed sleeping on my head. (I never understood that but she would race up the stairs as soon as we got out of my car.)  The place was super quiet which she appreciated.

When I had my two bladder cancer surgeries, she snuggled up to me and never left my side. She sensed what I was going through and I remember just being able to hold her for comfort. I was her second papi.

The same goes for my heart surgery recovery. She was there keeping me company and supported me in her own sweet way, just by being there and sitting next to me.  Even after I took her for short walks because my body was still recovering and I was out of breath, she was still in my face literally. :) (See video below.)

When I temporarily moved to New York, she visited me twice and enjoyed sitting on my old blue sofa (from Coral Gables) and running around Central Park (she sprinted for at least a mile and I couldn't keep up with her.)

Here she is taking a stroll in the Upper West Side with her other daddy for Thanksgiving week.

Luna even inspired the character of Amiga in my last novel "Six Neckties" with her unique black-spotted butt and funny personality. She was also so patient when I sketched her and she gave into me (or indulged me) when I snapped a photo of her next to the portrait. We were glued to the hip. We were a team.  I knew her and she knew me.

I never knew my heart could expand with so much love, thanks to Luna. I will always miss her. I was her Johnny or "Gnocchi" as I was referred to.

This video was the last I took of her two days before she departed the earth. (In the background, I was rewatching "Brothers and Sisters" from ABC and she was snuggling up next to me, as always.)