I got you on April 4th, 2001. I remember because I think that’s the most excited I have ever been. Little kid excitement you know? The pound said you were one and a half. My seven year old brain immediately declared your birthday to be October 4th.
Yesterday was December 15th. I decided to put you down. My 21 year old self made that decision with confirmation from the vet. My parents didn’t tell me it was time, my husband didn’t tell me it was time. You looked at me with those eyes and told me it was time. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever made, harder than deciding to run away from home and get married. Which you were there for. You were there, with your fur sopped with tears for the millionth time when I missed home. You were always there. It was the hardest decision, yet it was so clear that it was the right one to make. Nobody ever wants to tell their best friend goodbye though.
I wish I could tell you how much I love you. How much I will always love you. I love you more than most humans. When I was 10ish I always said if I had to choose between killing you or Jimmy and Mitchell, I’d have to make you live. Of course, that was back when I was 10 and they were my worst enemies, but you knew that already.
I can’t get your coat out of my mind. You are gorgeous. The most angelic breath taking dog I’ve ever seen. You have the most docile face. Your eyes melt my heart. I would do anything for you. My parents did everything for you because of me. They got to witness how much we loved each other. So did Michael. He saw how you would follow me around. How you loved spaghetti. How when you could barely walk, you still made yourself walk across the room when I called you. You couldn’t give me hugs anymore, but you gave me kisses yesterday. You laid your head in my lap and let me love you the whole drive up to VA. I needed that, I think you knew. Doolly, I would pray for you during thunder storms, and sang to you while you were scared. I used to pray all the time that you would go to heaven. If I got to pick one animal to go to heaven, it was you. I’d hold your paw and beg God to let you in when I was 11 or 12. I would randomly break down at 16 thinking about how old you were getting and how this day would come. Or you would escape and get hit. I always thought that was a bigger possibility. I love you like a human, because to me you were one. You understood like one, and you were there more than most of them. I can’t believe your gone. I can’t believe I didn’t have to clean up pee this morning. That’s gonna be so weird. I miss you so much. I don’t really remember not having you around. I had you for 2/3rds of my life. The hardest parts. Thank you for everything. For being there, for licking my tears, making me laugh, giving me a reason to smile, letting me hold you, for hugs and kisses and for unwavering friendship. Thank you for always coming back when you would get out. I was so over protective of you. Thank you for letting me dress you up and for being my model when I wanted to be a photographer. People say it gets easier (mostly Lauren) and I know it will. That doesn’t mean my love for you will fade, or our memories will soon become unclear. It just means you made me a little stronger and your teaching me how to grow up even though your gone. I love you with all of my hear Doolly Mae. I know you’ll be waiting in my mansion with your banana box and red cozy bed. You’ll be wearing a purple collar because purple was your favorite. People probably read this and think that I have an unhealthy attachment to you, but your part of me. You played a big role in making me who I am. You helped me through so much. I know you will always be my favorite. Not even Ezzi can replace or even come close to you. I love you. I can’t say that enough. I couldn’t say it enough yesterday. Nothing could prepare me for losing you. I’m still not ready to. I can’t move the luggage yet that blocks you out of the cat’s bathroom or our bedroom. I love how you would sneak into the bedroom when Michael wasn’t hear and I sat on the floor petting you and drinking my morning coffee. My heart hurts, but I know you were ready and I know your in a better place running like you did through the corn field and with Lucky. I’ll be missing you more than you know. I never said goodbye, just that I love you and its ok. I won’t say goodbye. But I do love you, and you helped teach me that everything will be ok. I’ll carry you with me everywhere. And your pictures will always be plastered through out my house. My kids will know about the greatest, kindest, best most loving dog that ever lived. They will know all about you. I love you Loo Bear. And I am missing you like crazy. The cat doesn’t snuggle or love like you….