It’s never easy to lose someone we love. Saying goodbye has to be one of the most difficult things we do. I said goodbye to my best friend earlier this year and am still struggling with the effects of it. I knew him from the time he was just a pup. When we brought him home the first day, my husband swore that he would never sleep in our bed. That first night, however, with the first whimper, my husband was out of the bed in a flash and scooping that warm, soft pup out of his crate to bring him back into our bed. Quite the soft-hearted man, my husband. And so my little ‘man’ snuggled in next to my face, then along a curve in my body, his warmth blazing against me, making me feel like my children were just babes again cuddling in my bed.
I watched him grow, wobbling through the yard on his puppy legs, chasing anything that moved. He loved to walk the neighborhood and take on the “big dogs”. (He was only 10 pounds) He’d grab onto their tails and give them a shake. He thought he was ferocious! He adjusted to the comings and goings of other animals in the house, a myriad of cats, rats, birds and hamsters. But he always knew he was special. He had a place in my heart the others did not. He had an uncanny knack of seeming to understand my needs, to know when I needed that extra measure of attention, whether it was a little love bite on the toe or an extra kiss. He was always there to dole it out. People may offer a kind word when you are hurting or down, but there’s something special about a dog’s kiss or affection. He has nothing to gain, except possibly an extra treat. It’s just the unconditional love they lavish on you.
He weathered many storms with me. He watched each child graduate school and move on, sensing my loss and gathering close to me to fill the void. He saw me through a move across the state to a new town of strangers and introduced me to many of my neighbors by his friendly nature of greeting each of them at the mailbox. He helped me through my divorce when no reassuring words from friends could. There’s just something about being able to cry into the soft fur of your dog and know he’ll never share what you say, never judge what you do and never, never think you’re being foolish. He bore the burden of the loss of a job, an interstate move, the death of a loved one and the move back home. He never once complained.
Shortly after I returned home, he had an accident that required stitches. After the vet examined him, he said he found a tumor on his belly that would require surgery. Would I consent? Of course I would! Anything to make him healthy. I got to see him briefly, his sweet face looking at me with love and he seemed to tell me that he understood and trusted that I was doing what was best for him. I hated to leave him, but reassured myself that I’d see him in a day or so. Later that night I got the disconcerting phone call about 10:30. He had taken a ‘turn for the worse’ and his heart had given out. I’d lost him. I still can’t remember it without the tears flowing. He was such a part of my life. Silly, some would say to be so grief-stricken over a dog! But a pet is so much more than just an animal, if you allow them to be. They are your best friend, your counselor, your best critic, your support system.
I never saw him after he died; I couldn’t bear to see his lifeless body. My friend buried him for me on my property on the sandy area by the river where he liked to play. I like the idea that he’s close. I have a new dog from the rescue shelter to fill the void, but it’s not the same. Nothing, no one can ever take the place of my little man. He was one of a kind.
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