Seventeen years ago you were brought into my life. You were so small you could fit entirely in an adults hand. Your soft two toned fur would come to reflect all the highs and lows we’d go through in life together. We decided on your name together, a name which would baffle people for years to come. I taught you how to fetch, I was even proud of the fact of how quickly you’d use the bathroom because as winter came, I really didn’t want to be standing by the door watching you for a long time. You were trained without a fence so you never ran off on your own, you had to be influenced by the other uncivilized dogs. Though I did not know it at the time, you were separated from your mother too soon. As a result you would howl incessantly at night from your kennel. Quickly it became too much for me to bare, and I took you from your crate and laid you in bed with me. Never again did you howl throughout the night, just be the biggest bed hog of all despite your size. You would follow me from room to room, never being far from my side. We struggled together in that first house. With it being flea infested and worse every year, it made grooming and bathing torture for you. I recall the water flowing off of you would be red because of the fleas fighting back as they died. Your elation when it was over was a sight to behold as you would sprint around the house, rubbing against the floor and furniture. We did eventually leave that place, and I learned that I could not leave you in a new place by yourself without being crated up, otherwise you would destroy everything you could get ahold of. And you did. I was in a lot of trouble. You were only about five or six at the time and I was already worried about you getting old, if only I had known.
Not much happened for many years, normal life. We moved a few more times until I was twenty, when we got a place of our own. You did not like being alone in that house. Having spent most of your life surrounded by other animals and/or people you would not even go and eat or drink if I was not in the same room as your bowls. So, they would be moved into my bedroom and that’s where they’d be from then on.
After being alone for some time, I rescued some cats and brought them home. A brother and sister. You were so excited to see them as it had been years since you had lived with a cat. They were not fond of you, having just lived with a puppy that would not leave them a lone. After some time however, y’all made peace with each other, and my bed got more crowded.
When we moved to Texas, not much changed. You were always adaptable, as long as I was there. Until I rescued a dog. A big half German Shepard, half husky mix who never knew how big he was. Then you got jealous. If he was close, you had to be closer, if he was being pet, you had to be pet more. While it was cute, you had nothing to worry about. You were and always will be my favorite. That also was the most crowded my bed ever got. You, Jack, the two cats, and myself. Funnily enough, I think that’s when I was sleeping my best.
Our next biggest life change was me getting married. Alas, there finally was no more room on the bed for everyone. You had to sleep on the floor in your own bed. Often times you would make up for this change by sleeping on my shoes though. You still could be on the couch however.
As I struggled with work, we had to move again and had to leave the rest of the animals behind. I think this took a toll on you because it was the first time your health took a dip. Overnight, you became hard of hearing. Despite this development, you were still so full of joy.
After some time, we moved again, to the last house you’d ever live in. We were able to get the cats back, Jack however had passed away. You were given an arthritic bed to help you be more comfortable as it seemed your normal bed no longer worked. Despite getting older, you still had your adventures. You worked your way into the hearts of both sets of grandparents and got to be in their houses. When I made my own jerky, you somehow managed to get the bag and eat all of it, twice, though it was in places you couldn’t reach. I’m still confused by that. We went on road trips together, and on one, we were in an accident. Miraculously you were unharmed, just shaken up.
This past year is when things started to get really hard. Your eyesight got really bad. I’m sure all you saw was fuzzy blobs at this point but some how you still recognized me. Your teeth got bad making it hard to eat and you became incontinent making it hard to take care of you and keep the house clean but we managed. Just a few months ago you stopped being able to play fetch, the pain was too much. Your days were filled with you sleeping to escape the pain and just being awake enough to use that bathroom, eat and drink. I kept praying that the Lord would take you himself so that I would not have to be faced with making the most difficult decision of my life. That prayer would go unanswered.
Yesterday, I had to make that call. With that came the loss of a dream, that you would get to see my kids and be their first friend, that they would love you as I did. I will never forget the adventure that we had together. I know I could have done better. I am sorry for all the things I did wrong and I pray that the Lord will forgive me for the times I’ve mistreated His creation.
As the sun went down, and your eyes closed one final time, and the pain you felt faded away, I hope you that you were having a good dream of better times. Of running and almost tripping over your ears like when you were a puppy because they were too big, or chasing me around the house as we played, or us just simply relaxing together side by side without a care in the world, happy to be together.
