You were a really, really good dog. Everyone knows I’m an animal person. Everyone knows that I automatically love every dog I see. But you were somehow my favorite. I feel guilty saying it, considering we have three other amazing dogs that I absolutely adore, but it’s true.
The day we got you, you were probably the tiniest puppy I’d ever seen in real life. Which is crazy because you grew up to be the biggest dog I’d ever seen. I remember that you still weren’t potty trained when we got you, which led to some messes in the car. (Luckily all over my sister, not all over me. Thank you for that.) I also remember that you really liked French fries. Now I wish we had given you more of them.
If I had known you would leave us so soon, I would have done a lot of things different. I would have spent hours and hours petting you and giving you your favorite treats and picking ticks off of you and letting you get me all muddy, even when I was all dressed up to go to some fancy event, like a ball or a recital.
You were so big and fluffy, and I had really wanted to train you as a therapy dog. It was so good to be able to go hug you when I was on the verge of a panic attack, or when it had been a hard day and I didn’t know if it was worth living anymore. I don’t know what I’m going to do without your slobbery kisses and your big muddy paws.
Speaking of paws, you may have been the rowdiest dog I’ve ever met, but you were the only one of our dogs that could shake hands. You would always offer your paw when you were in trouble, as if to say “I’m sorry, please forgive me”, and of course it always worked. Because who could resist your big brown eyes?
Your favorite treat was definitely chicken, which was bad, cause, ya know, we have real live chickens running around the yard, and you ate many of them. Which was sad. But at least you were still alive. I would give any of our chickens (sorry, chickens) to have you still here with us. I was really mad at you when you killed one of our ducks. But again, I would give any of our ducks to have you here with us. (Sorry, ducks. I do love you, I promise.)
It’s not fair. You weren’t even a year old yet, and you were getting to be so obedient and gentle and good. But I guess life isn’t fair. I like to say that someone has to get the short stick in life. And I guess this time it was your turn. (And mine, too, because I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face.)
I know I will appreciate the things I have more because you’re gone. It was an awful, tragic accident, and everything was over in minutes. Which just shows that life can turn on its head in such a short amount of time.
I’m really going to miss you. It’s so hard to go out the front door and not have you there. It’s so hard not to hear your bark. I didn’t realize how much you barked until you were gone. Now it’s so quiet outside, and I hate it.
I miss your bark. I miss your kisses. I miss throwing you treats and seeing you catch them in your mouth. I miss training you. I miss all of you.
You were such a good boy, and I will always, always love you.
