My baby puppy dog, Mysti went home….

Today, at about 11:45 AM, my baby puppy dog, Mysti went home.  She no longer has to be upset over getting two insulin shots a day.  She no longer has to pinch her sister’s cheek over being knocked into the wall by her or for any other faux pas Madeline dares to express.More... 

For the last few days she’s been talking to me.  My little independent girl, who would only let me hold and hug her for a moment with her little back straight enough for British royalty to think she was one of them, has been coming to me and kissing me goodbye.  Oh, don’t get me wrong.  She was always a good kisser and would surprise you with how frequent and intense they were.  Guess she got that from her French side because she was one heck of a good French kisser.

When she was younger, she’d chase leaves in this Texas wind, drop them and look for another to take off so that she could chase it too.  She was fast as our wind too.  Mysti would chase squirrels, almost catch up and slack off enough to enjoy the thrill of the chase without catching them.  She didn’t want to hurt anything except maybe Madeline when she upset her. 

Mysti thought things through.  It would take her awhile to decide how to get what she wanted, whether she needed mother or daddy’s help to get it and whether it was worth the exertion.  She had a quiet dignity and showed extreme love and care to those she deemed worthy of it.  You had to prove yourself to her.

For the last few months she had trouble with her sight, confusion, her legs and with needles.  She can see well now and her legs have found a strength that she didn’t have yesterday.  The confusion was still there when I saw her under that huge oak tree, that is, until I told her that she no longer had the diabetes and didn’t need to be confused. 

On the way home, I told her to go find Riley, her friend and our daughter’s dog.  She said she would. 

When we got home, I told Madeline that she could now get out of the car first.  That’s when I heard my baby say in her light-hearted, playful voice, “No, she can’t.”  She made me laugh like she did when she was a baby hiding in her daddy’s tennis shoe.  Or when she lined all her toy animals up in a circle, sat in the middle and pretended that one of them behind her was sneaking up on her.  With her being the center of that circle, one of those animals was always going to sneak up on her.  She took great care of her babies.

Mysti, you will be missed in the physical, baby, but I want you happy and healthy and now you are.

Mysti Mariah Byrd

February 20, 1994—-May 28, 2008

Mother mourns you now.

Da Juana