When I came home from work on Monday, I noticed that our neighbor's fence was gone. Not a good sign.
The fence had weathered many a storm, including hurricanes Charley, Frances and Jeanne, one of which dropped a palm tree on it. In spite of being battered, the fence stood.
Now it was gone. That meant one thing -- Blackjack was gone.
Blackjack was our neighbor's dog. He was a sweet-natured pound puppy of medium height and weight and unknown parentage. His name came from his coloring. He was solid black except for a triangular shaped white patch at his throat. I guess you could say he was the dog equivalent of a tuxedo cat.
Although he was our neighbors' dog, Blackjack was part of our lives, too. He would greet us as we passed his yard on our way up and down our driveway, and when he was outside of his fence, he would come back to our yard to "patrol the perimeter". We always felt safer with Blackjack on guard.
I like to think that right now Blackjack is patrolling Rainbow Bridge.
Goodbye, Blackjack, we'll miss you.