Ivy’s photo

Though Ivy is gone, I stare at her every day. She is on my computer desktop, 1280 by 1024 pixels of her, laying in bed, nose flush on the mattress.

I think of Ivy all the time. Often it’s a subconscious connection between what I’m doing and how Ivy would react. Sometimes it’s just my reaction to seeing her appear on the monitor as programs close while the computer shuts down.

This time of year, I would often bring Ivy to the TV station. She was a good sport, letting me put antlers or a Santa hat on her head. She would lay down on the anchor desk as I walked off to the weather wall. She was happy. She had no place to go. When I would return, Ivy was right where I left her.

Christmas Night 2002, while on camera finishing the forecast, Ivy decided it was time to lay down. It was so funny to see on live TV. She was oblivious to what was going on around her… or maybe above it all. It was her understated elegance that made her the center of attention.

A dog like Ivy – reserved in nearly every way, was never outwardly affectionate. This wasn’t a dog who’d meet you at the door and lick you to death. Still, there was no mistaking Ivy’s affection toward our family.

If there was a squabble, Ivy would go away, climbing the stairs then jumping up on our bed and making herself comfortable. She was a non confrontational dog.

People still ask me about Ivy all the time. I don’t like to tell them she’s passed away, and often I don’t. They always marvel at her composure and ask what kind of dog ‘he is.’ I tell them that Ivy was unlike most other Westies in her demeanor.

There are few photos that capture the essence of someone as well as the picture with this entry captures Ivy. She is calm… She is alert… She is at ease… She is where she wants to be.

She will always be with us. We will never stop missing her.