"There are not words to truly capture the real Midnight. The Midnight very few people were privileged to know. But the real, true Midnight should be remembered. He was with us all to short of a time.
When people remember Midnight, they remember a painfully shy, spooked dog that wanted to be as far away as possible, back to the wall for security. Or maybe they recall him hiding under our GPA table at a Show and Tell; his beautiful brown eyes mirroring the terror locked in his heart. Some might think of our tales of having to physically push him out of the van (except in the safety of his "own"garage) not many people will remember him as a sweet loving playful boy, BUT I WILL.
When I remember Midnight, I'll be remembering the 72 pound "puppy" rolling on his back and pawing at me hoping to have his tummy scratched. Or the sound of him lumbering up and down the stairs to find "Mama." Having a black snout peek over my arm to help me pay bills or sew his coat. And letting him out of his crate, even after a short stay...he bounced and jumped with his "sisters" as though there were no fears in his big heart. There was also the dog in his "terrible twos" that would wake early in the morning and think it was playtime. Should no one else be awake to play with, he'd take care of that with his hoarse, yappy bark. We also soon learned to put away all squeaky toys before bedtime or he would hone in on them, even in the dark. Still now, if I wake a 2:30 or 3:00 AM (his favorite playtime), I expect to hear Midnight, and wish he were there to wake me up.
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