A dog's tale -- our family's Clover

In honor of National Dog Day, this is a story about a boy and his dog, or more accurately a family and their dog.

Unfortunately, we lost our dog recently as she succumbed to a quick but deadly illness called HGE, in which she seemed normal Friday, became ill Saturday, and left us Sunday morning.

A visit to the veterinarian wasn't able to save her and we found she had died in her bed, near our bedroom and her beloved family.

Clover was a mix, like many dogs -- except she was an exceptional mix -- a unique blend of a Chinese Crested and a Dachshund.

What that meant was that she was a shorthaired dog with what was pretty much a lion's mane. Our daughter Amy had great fun when she was younger moussing up Clover's mane to look like a "Mohawk."

We got Clover as a puppy from friends in Oklahoma.

She had a gentle disposition and loved romping in the yard. She also loved to sleep in the sun. When she was 2 weeks old during her first outdoor outing, she "got lost" when she fell asleep in a tall clump of clover; hence the name.

She was the perfect companion for our many children, friendly with their friends, and never out of sorts.

Her uncanny hearing would pick up any sounds around our home, as well as far down as the street, which was a good length away.

Her barking would instantly let us know someone new was around.

She was a great beggar for attention, for "people food," and for generally anything she wanted, sitting up on her hind legs like a meerkat and looking at us with longing.

While those attributes endeared her to us, her playful personality was on display throughout her all too short life, a 10-year span in human terms.

When we lived in Oklahoma, she was best friends with the neighbors' Schnauzer, Gizmo.

In what remains one of the most unusual dog friendships I have ever seen, Gizmo, the "escape artist," would sneak out of his back yard and come down the street each morning after the children left for school (he always seemed to know when the kids had left). When he reached our front porch he would bark once to get our attention and then sit quietly at the front door, as if inquiring whether or not Clover could come out and play.

Clover would be perched on top of our living room couch so she could part the curtains with her nose and see out the front window, waiting for Gizmo's arrival.

The two would play outside in our fenced back yard, then announce they would like to come in, where, after refreshing gulps of water, they would sit on top of our couch, look out the window and watch the world go by together, as they appeared to discuss the day's comings and goings. Then they would both take a nap.

It even got to the point where we had doggie sleepovers. They were truly best friends.

Sadly that ended when we moved to Missouri.

Yet when our family "adopted" Shadow, a cat that my children witnessed being thrown out of a truck, Clover never appeared jealous.

There was the requisite playful banter and of course, a healthy dose of cat ambushing unsuspecting dog, but the two got on very well.

When Shadow would spring from the house when someone forgot to close the door, Clover would announce that Shadow had returned and was at the front door.

In fact, in the days leading up to Clover's passing, Shadow was literally Clover's shadow, sensing something was wrong.

Shadow hasn't quite been the same since.

I should have suspected something was up when Clover, always beside herself to greet me when I returned to the family from my weeks away, was even more demonstrative in her demand for attention and the obligatory belly rub and petting.

Not once but twice would hardly do this time. This routine was normal for Clover to greet me but never to this extent.

I was away when Clover died, and I took it pretty rough, still do. It was hard on the family as well.

We have a spot for her nearby and we go to see her grave often.

Animals become so much more than pets, they become another member of your family.

It's taken me several weeks to write this and it is still impossible not to get choked up when I think of our faithful and loving Clover, and not to get teary and feel the lump in my throat.

At some point, we will probably get another dog. I have had some wonderful companions, to my first dog Spot, who I grew up with; to Punkin, who I found abandoned at my bus stop when I was in school and who enjoyed sitting on top of the dog house; and to Socks, who, like Clover, loved to greet me enthusiastically at the door.

My parents have had some wonderful dogs as well including Prince and Rusty.

My dogs have been loving and protective, from chasing away larger, more aggressive dogs, to getting into a fight to the death to protect me when I was younger.

Animals like this create a bond with their humans, a bond that can't be severed, even in death.

We will always hold a special place in our hearts for them. We will make new connections even as we cherish our past relationships with our dearly beloved four-legged family members.