In Memory of Whiskey

Remembering one January 5th and a very special dog.

This human’s best friend, Whiskey. AKA ‘Mooch’ because my nieces liked the nickname better than Pooch or Smooch. All photos by Wendy Gray

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Hello all and sundry,

It’s good to have you back! Can you believe it’s 2025?! For me, every new year seems unreal, like where did the last year, the last YEARS, all go?! Now that I am older, it seems to hit even harder and feel all the more surreal. Well, pondering over the movement of time, I am heading into this new year beginning with poems about pets and place, those that have impacted my life.

Pets have always been a part of mine from the first I remember…must have been about three or four when we had a pup named Fluffy. Pretty sure I named her; my little sis being only 2 at the time. Then, there were others: Tiffany, Gypsy, Shaker, and Boots. Those first two and the last were ‘shared’ dogs, but once pushing through therapy at the age of 11 (abuse from Mom’s second husband) the dogs Gypsy and Shaker, and a cat named Mandy, were mine. My responsibility and my support. I would not have survived with any sanity without them. This is one reason I wrote about them so much, I suppose. Our pets are truly God’s gift of the most loyal and unconditional, loving companionship; in truth, we know our loved humans will always falter. Looking back, I have been immensely blessed to have had the most perfect of pets.

Whiskey, a shepherd-coyote cross, came when I was 17 and just when she was old enough to be with me, I turned 18 and moved out of my parent’s house to gain necessary independence. A friend’s dog had had a litter and Whiskey was 8 out of 11¹ 9 out of 12 pups. I was there during her birthing and we were connected immediately. I have had more dogs since, yet she was truly one in a million! I’ll be sharing more writing about our bond as time goes on. Years ago I submitted a short story about her for an anthology about departed pets, and it was the FIRST paid publishing of my writing! You will get to read it at the end of the month! Whiskey, who crossed the Rainbow Bridge on January 5, 1998, was my constant, and traveled with me SO many places. We journeyed 11 years together over thousands of miles and stood in millions of spaces.

Places have also been a really grounding space for me as well. The places called home, the places of retreat, the places of escape, the places that whispered their history up through my feet, all have left their image etched on my soul. I often wrote about them as well in—want—to capture the peace, and sometimes the sorrow, that spoke to me there. I have posted about some already, and will bring you more this month and going forward. Will be wonderful sharing with you these ‘points of interest’.

Now, here is a poem about my sweet Whiskey. If you have been reading my poetry for a while now, you’re probably thinking, this dog sounds familiar? Well, I did include something about her in an earlier poem with a picture and I’ll link it at the bottom of this post for a revisit, or, if you haven’t read it and you’re new here, so that you can. Hope you get a blessing from them both.

Many blessings and MUCH LOVE,

~Wendy💜

PS. Here is a photo of that notebook page and the photos I put with the poem. A typed version follows.

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Photo by Wendy Gray

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In Memory of Whiskey

She would have
Been here,
With me, 
Running along
River's shore, 
Hoping for sticks
Thrown, shaking
Off icy water
In wait.
Her voice, dog shouts of
'Throw it again, Mom!'
I would sit, in pause,
Pen and notebook at my lap,
Watching as she
Traveled water's edge
In search of
A smell to tingle her nose.
I would write about
Her security; absent now.
Absent.

Frequently, I look over
My shoulder,
Unconscious fear,
Conscious lack of protection.
She made it safe
To be alone,
However un-lonely.
Eleven years had 
Flown by.
So many rivers,
So many sticks,
So many smiles,
So many rides home
Inhaling sweet aroma
Of wet dog. 

I throw a stick
Still,
For her memory.
She is with me,
I know.
But...
How I wish
I could feel her nose
Lift my hand
For a pet;
Reminding me,
'It's late...
Shouldn't we head home?'



W. Gray  Jan. 5, 1998

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If you also have or have had a treasured pet, I would love to hear about yours! Our special stories about how they have touched our lives should be enjoyed and shared.

1. Added 1-12-25: Must apologize here for the memory error of numbers. Can I say I am getting, well, older?! Having gone to creating another post about Whiskey, I am including in the Featured Writer for January 2025 post my first published short story, I realized in the rereading of that story that I misremembered the litter numbers! Whiskey was actually number 9 out of 12 pups! How I got off by a number, WHO KNOWS?!!!! But, I did. Chalk it up to a head full of pets and their details swishing all around together or it could be autoimmune brain fog, still, more likely, it is the advance in my mileage! Whatever the culprit, I will graciously give my apologies and correct my mental error. Appreciate the understanding! Blessings and MUCH LOVE, ~Wendy💜🤗🧠👵🏼⌛