I’ve been around more dogs and cats than I can remember, some mine, most others, but Apple Clickman was the one who stole my heart.

Apple wasn’t one of those cookie cutter tongue wagging la-dee-da tail wagging dog cliches always in the same sort of mood.

Don’t get me wrong, she always greeted me and Grammy (and everybody else) with excitement and super friendliness.  “Hello! I’m so happy to see you, come in, come in!”  She was a happy dog and no one knew that better than her best human friends Josh, Nicole, Ben, Emma, Molly and Jack who hugged, petted, loved and appreciated her every day.

We often laughed how she’d run away just to meet new people, enjoying every minute before she hopped in the car to return home.  I’m sure she felt bad for causing such distress, but darn it if that wasn’t a fun little adventure!

Yet with Apple there was more, an added dimension, a soulful spirit that set her apart. This dog had depth, range, and a human persona.

When she was sad, scared or disappointed, we could see it, feel it.  If she was having a bad moment, we sensed the burden, wanting to ease the pain.  “It’s okay Apple, it’s going to be alright.”  It was like that with everybody.

There’s an old expression (used for people), “The eyes are the windows to the soul.”  That held true for Apple, her eyes revealed an inner complexity that surprised.

Nothing made Apple feel worse than being scolded or thinking she was in trouble (even when she wasn’t).  Her entire black and white fur coated dog being withdrew with fear, uncertainty and doubt.  It broke your heart seeing her confused or disappointed and we’d all try to make it better.

Her vulnerability made her human.  She had layers of visible emotion I could feel, see and sense.  This dog was wonderfully intuitive.  Here’s an example:

Apple not only hated and reacted to the sound, flash and fury of thunderstorms and changes in weather, she could sense something big was brewing in the air well before it hit.   The thundercoat you bought couldn’t touch, let alone control, this fear.

Last summer when a thunderstorm kicked up, Apple was hell bent for hiding, darting down the hallway. I intercepted, sat on the floor and gave her the longest full body hug I’ve ever given a four legged being, pressing gently but firmly, telling her all the while it would be okay. I don’t know if it helped, but it made me feel like I had eased her trauma a bit.

Did Apple have some kind of miniaturized built-in doggie barometer that measured atmospheric pressure?  Maybe, but I’d like to think it was an example of human intuition.

(Apple’s built-in intuitive dog barometer?)

I always enjoyed taking her ears and covering her eyes. Last time I saw her, I did that; it was a frequent thing with me.  Apple would sit there and let me do it, nose patiently and proudly in the air.  I’m pretty sure she didn’t like it, but it didn’t hurt and she never wanted to disappoint. I’m sure she was always thinking:

“Oh geez, he’s going to do that a-g-a-i-n.  Take my ears and stretch them over my eyes.  Why does he do that?  Why? I seriously think there’s something wrong with him.  They don’t even completely cover my eyes. I mean, come on. Whatever, he’s a decent guy, I’ll just grin and bear it. He seems to get such a kick out of it.  Such a simple man…”

I’m pretty sure she felt the same way when I put sunglasses on or a baseball cap.  She’d  patiently let me do it every… single…time… never wanting to disappoint.  That’s why she let her pal Ruby take over her bed and push her around.  Whatever. Always love. She got even by eating Ruby’s food.

There was a regal-ness to Apple.  When she lay down, her front paws would cross in a way that conveyed sophistication and class.  She carried herself like a Queen. She was doggie Royalty.  Even when she got older and the gray set in, Apple always looked…

F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S.

She was needy in the best possible way, needing to love and be loved.  That’s the ticket, right?  You give and you get.  I don’t know what made me feel better – knowing how much she loved a hug and belly rub, or the feeling I got making her feel good.

A true friend reaches out for your hands and touches your heart.  That’s what you did Apple.  Gonna miss you, always will. You rocked.