Just gotta remember the good times, i guess.
Like how he used to dance with my mom to the radio. He was 125 pounds, but he'd still hop up on his hind legs and rumba. good times.
or how he always stayed in the yard, even if people walked by with their dogs or called out to him, unless we told him directly to "go say hi, woofer", he'd stay in the yard (no leash or anything). still baffles me how well trained he was, w/o training.
Or how he never barked or scratched the door to go outside or come back in. He always went out at 4am and back in 10 minutes later. Always the same way: went in front of my parent's room and gently shook his tags (just enough to wake my mom, a light sleeper). and to come back in, he'd "woof" only just loud enough to tell my mom to "let me back in plz'. noone else ever thought he barked in the morning cause it was so precisely tuned for only us to hear it It's funny too, now that I look back, that if we didn't answer within 5 minutes, he'd "woof" again but with a "woof?"-type questioning like "you there?"
or when we couldn't find him all afternoon one day, and then I was walking in front of our shrubs in the front lawn and a nose was poking out from beneith, towards the street so he could watch if any neighbor kids were strolling by who would say hi to him. All while remainng in the shade.
God i miss you even more now woofer. RIP