An homage to Lil Dog


By Vicki Scott

Heaven gained an amazing woman earlier this week.

Faye “Lil Dog” Moore, who earned her nickname for her love for dogs, was one of my first friends when we moved to Glencoe. Once her son David saw my husband Alan’s motorcycles, he told his mom that we were good people. That was the first thing Faye told us when we met. I had no idea what the years to follow had in store for Lil Dog and me. What an adventure!

When I first met her, Faye worked at JC Penney’s at the Gadsden Mall. With her family and her granddaugh-ter Alaina, Faye had a busy schedule and had to “fit me in.”  She loved Alaina more than life itself, but when Alaina went to school it freed up Faye’s time for me. I knew when I was getting a turn because Faye’s back porch faced our house. She would be sitting on her steps, waiting for my husband to leave for his nightshift job.

I would dart to Faye’s house as soon as Alan left, and it soon was Mexican and Margaritas for us. They all knew Faye at the restaurant we decided on for that night, and she was treated like a celebrity. There was never a dull moment, and I had a memorable time. Faye was a hoot and never meets a stranger. She was no ordinary 80-year-old lady. Every time I visit with my children, they brace themselves for a Faye story.

When Halloween came around, Faye walked over to the house with a bag on each arm and a margarita in each hand. This was the first year I lived in an area that had trick or treaters. We gave out a lot of candy and made many friends.

Later that year, we put up a fence and Faye went with me to adopt Reba, our border collie that looks like a border collie. Alan went with me to adopt Sandy, the border collie that looks like a yellow lab. The next Halloween, Faye and I stood outside our fence to give out candy because of the dogs. Everyone knew Faye and our dogs by name. I knew Faye was, but I did not realize the dogs were such socialites. That’s how the connection between Halloween and my dogs came about.

Alan’s work schedule eventually changed to first shift, and I did not see Faye as much. She insisted we go out to eat and once again it was Mexican and Margaritas. We were discussing our jobs. She hated hers and I loved mine at George Wallace Senior Center in Glencoe.

Not knowing she would be interested, I told Faye of an opening at the center. She showed up the next day and applied. After she applied, Faye meandered around the center and introduced herself to those who did not know her and reminisced with those who did. Faye reminisced for a long time with Garfield Lambert, whom she had known since she worked at Billy Boys.

Faye left that day knowing she had a job before it was even official. No one told her; she just knew.

Faye’s confidence and feistiness are traits I hope to perfect as I get older. She used both traits as needed to build up the people around her that that she loved. Faye was a good one to have on your side when battling the odds or achieving a task. She never backed down. “Come on, we can do it!” was her attitude, no matter what the task. I once heard the saying, “It is not the size of the dog in a fight, but the size of the fight in a dog.” Lil Dog was a fighter and an example of how I want to be when I grow up.

Faye showed a lot of fight when it was about her friends or family but was especially fierce when it came to her dogs. She often told me that she loved dogs more than people. She fussed over my dogs more than I did, and they loved her for that. Thanks to Faye, they get treats every time we leave the house, come back home or go outside.

Trips to Georgia, going out to eat, working or any time spent with Faye are treasured memories and I know heaven has grown brighter with her presence. Thank you, Faye, for being a loyal friend, co-worker and neighbor. I am a better person because of you, and I am going to miss you.  Until we meet again, please take care of the piece of my heart you took with you, my friend.

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