|
"If tears could
build a stairway,
And memories a lane,
I'd walk right up to Heaven
And bring you home again..."
I remember when I
was 6, we went to a farm to look at puppies. You followed me
around everywhere... but the lady said someone had already
bought you, so we kept looking for a puppy. Then one day the
lady called to let us know the people who had bought you,
wouldn't finish their payments, so they had gone back to get
you, and that if we wanted you were ours. Your name was "Amber",
but I'd always wanted a dog like the one from Lassie... so being
6 and obsessed with that show and that dog, your name quickly
went from "Amber" to "Lassie". You were supposed to be the
family dog but it became pretty obvious pretty quick that you
were MY dog. You always protected me, even when it was just me
and dad or grandma, sometimes even just a friend, goofing off.
You always kept the cats in the house and would bring them back
in when they got out, and you'd separate them when they fought.
Anytime someone who wasn't supposed to be here was here, you let
us know. Even the one time the front door was accidentally left
open... you made sure we knew.
And even as your
hips grew so weak you had trouble getting up and down, you would
still follow me to the bathroom and push your way in. You'd
follow me into the kitchen every time, hoping I'd drop
something. Every time I went up the stairs, you'd slowly follow,
waiting for me no matter where I went. At night, even if you
didn't go to bed with me at first, if I woke up in the middle of
the night and looked at my door, you were there. And if you
weren't there you were lying in the hall, flopped on your back
with your paws in the air. Sometimes you'd even use the little
stool for you beside my bed to get up, because it was too hard
for you to just jump up. And every time I'd come home... you'd
always be lying by the front door waiting for me.
I used to always
complain about your barking... but now every time I hear the
garbage truck, or fire works, the dog across the street, or the
fire alarm in our house go off... I'm going to wish you were
there, annoying me with your high pitched bark.
And I wish that
after I finish writing this, I'll go back downstairs to sit on
the living room floor, and you'll come squeeze between me and
the couch just to lie beside me.
Last of all, I wish
it would stop hurting.
Rest in peace
Lassie... we love you, and no dog will ever take your place. You
were one of a kind, you WERE the "once in a lifetime" dog.
I'm going to miss
calling your name and a moment later hearing you get up from
where you are to come to me. I'll miss the comfort of having you
there on the windy and stormy nights. I'll miss you howling at
the sound of ambulances and the ice cream truck. I'll miss
whistling to get you to come to me. I'll miss you drooling on my
laptop screen. I'll miss rubbing that soft spot between your
eyes. I'll miss you walking across my laptop screen. I'll miss
how I knew if I left food alone around you, no matter how bad
you wanted to, you wouldn't touch it unless I told you to. I'll
miss getting you to shake a paw. I'll miss getting you to roll
over. I'll miss pretending to shoot you, and you playing dead.
I'll miss you licking my feet, even though it was gross and you
knew you weren't supposed to. I'll miss the sound of you out in
the backyard from my room. I'll miss you bolting from the back
door to the back fence because you're convinced someone's trying
to break into your yard. I'll miss opening my bedroom door
whenever I've closed it, to you sitting right in front of it,
waiting for me. I'll miss scratching your ears. I'll miss you
following me into the bathroom every morning while I get ready
for school. I'll miss you barking at the garbage truck. I'll
miss you lying by the front door. I'll miss you constantly
moving around the house. I'll miss you coming and sitting on my
homework because I was paying more attention to it than you.
I'll miss you plopping yourself between me and the cat, because
I should being attention to you instead. I'll miss you always
asking to go outside. I'll miss coming home to you greeting me
at the door, then bugging me until I let you out... just because
you know you can. I'll miss you following me to the bathroom,
even though I'll be back right away. I'll miss you pushing the
bathroom door open. I'll miss your nose. I'll miss the sound of
you moving around upstairs while I'm doing laundry. I'll miss
the comfort of knowing I'm safe, because you'd die for me. I'll
miss you waking me up and making me lift you onto my bed when
it's windy, because the wind scares you. I'll miss you waiting
for me to finish dinner so you can lick my bowl. I'll miss
simply always sharing food with you, no matter what it is I'm
eating. I'll miss how you feel, and how much you smelled like
old dog. I'll miss waking up and seeing you in my doorway, or in
my hallway. I'll miss filling your bowl. I'll miss you ripping
open your presents every Christmas. I'll miss every little thing
about you and every little thing you did. I'll even miss your
barking. I miss you... and I'd do anything if we could have you
again, just for another day. For you, this list will forever be
a work in progress, because even the smallest of things will be
missed... already are missed.
"They will not go
quietly,
the dogs who share our lives
In subtle ways they let us know,
their spirit still survives
Old habits still make us think
we hear a bark at the door,
or step back when we
drop a tasty morsel on the floor.
Our feet still go around the place
the food dish used to be,
and sometimes, coming home at night,
we miss them terribly
And although time may bring new friends
and a new food dish to fill,
that one place in our hearts belongs to them...
and always will."
Gabrielle M |