Okay guys, I’ll admit it, I’m tired.
Not the type of tired where you guys leave and after a while I nap to pass the time. I mean the type of tired that fills my bones, my muscles, even my mouth. It hurts to get up and go to the bathroom and sometimes it hurts to eat. And you know how much I love to eat. I’m sore even when I don’t do anything, and when I do anything I collapse.
But it wasn’t always this way.
I remember the early days, when things were easier. Simplicities like the bathroom were not even a thought in my head. It was play time all the time. I remember the little one, and boy was he little back then.
I didn’t like him much when he was that young. Sure, he was always good for a delicious snack, but that was essentially it. He would grab me around the neck, poke me in the eyes, and wake me up every time he walked by. I left him alone unless we were looking to spend time together, but he would always grab my head while I was sleeping. Then anyone had the nerve to get mad at me for reacting?
But, boy, those were the days. I would run around, playing, tossing a ball back and forth. The little one didn’t throw it very far at first, but eventually he could really throw. We always went in the yard, and though eventually he threw to other friends he never did forget about me. And for that, I am very grateful.
I remember when mom and dad danced in the living room. They have always been so happy, and seeing that made me happy. Sometimes I would jump up and join them, and they would laugh and grab one of my arms each. Then the three of us would dance the night away. That never made me sore.
Contrary to how I’m perceived recently, I actually love to stand. Using all my muscles made me feel tough, and it let me interact with my friends and family more. I remember one party, it was an absolute blast. I jumped up to the counter when everyone was hanging out, and had my first cigarette, and luckily it was my last. My friends all I thought I looked cool and adorable at the same time, but I probably wasn’t in the state of mind to continue doing that.
Oh, the long late night walks! I almost forgot! It’s been awhile since me, mom, and the little one went on a walk. Man, those were the best. Exploring the world, escaping the confines of my home, maybe making a new friend along the way. We’d walk a mile or more and I’d sniff the grass every inch of the journey. Mom and the little one would speak about secrets only they could share, and I heard them all, but I’m a loyal pal who does not repeat things, and I literally kept my nose out of their business.
I can feel the exhaustion coming over me now, and usually in times like these I’d be sleeping on my pillow. Have you ever loved and hated something at the same time? I have, and it is that damn pillow. I’ve felt eternally damned there the last year, unable to escape its confines even a little. When I tried to get up from the pillow I would slide off of it, and then my face would hit the floor. Yet, the pillow was always comfortable, too. I knew that was my private oasis, and it always liberated me of the pain coursing through my legs. Maybe I’m just being picky.
People always hung out with me near my pillow, especially the little one. He had grown over the years, a lot slower than me, and he became less annoying luckily. We’ve become best friends, and the love he has for me I now fully reciprocate. I always know exactly when he is on his way home from school. I would excitedly stare at the door for the moment he walks in, and I try to stand up to greet him. He usually runs over to me and helps me up, and I would stand there before we go outside. I would do my business and then glance around.
The little one seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and he would grab my backside and lift gently, so that I could climb the stairs. We repeated this slow process on each stair, and any time I began to fall, he caught me. He always was such a good friend, and he never stopped catching me when I was about to fall. I’d like to say I have done the same.
But right now he’s crying next to me, and I’m not quite sure why. He’s grabbing me around the neck again, though this time it isn’t really bothering me. It’s just making me curious. They always said I had such a curious face and curious eyes, and I guess I finally am curious about the situation.
The middle one is crying, too. So is the oldest! Mom has a camera in her hands, and dad is watching on from the side. He isn’t saying much, maybe he’s mad at them and that’s why they’re so upset. I want to lick up their tears, but I no longer have the strength to.
They keep telling me how good I am, and how much they love me. They always have shown me love, and I know that they know how much I love them, too.
My ears perk up as I hear the word that always riled me up more than anything else: Ride.
I immediately try to stand, eager to hop in the car with the windows down like always. Dad always rolled the windows down on both sides for me, and he never really complained about the drool left on his car. As I stand my legs falter, and I begin to fall.
The little one catches me and pulls me up. His eyes are still red, but he seems like he has his usual purpose again. He grabs the leash and attaches it to my collar, and I turn with a wagging tail to the door.
“Slow,” the little one warns. If that’s what he thinks, okay, that’s just fine with me.
We get out the door, and I shockingly find myself doing everything with ease. We reach the end of the driveway and I’m not even out of breath. The others follow us outside, which never usually happens, and I’m curious if we’re all going on a ride together! That would be so fun!
I turn towards dad’s car – I memorized the tiny car was always his – and I walk towards the back door. The others walk up behind me and tell me, “I love you,” as I sit there patiently. They are crying a little harder now, and dad walks up with a frown and opens the door.
I did not hesitate and I jumped into the backseat with all the strength I had. I didn’t even need help and I managed to do it! I look back at my loved ones and they stare at me with shocked eyes.
“Of course he waits until now to be able to do that,” the little one mutters.
“Let’s get going,” dad says as he closes the door. Dad and the little one get inside, while the others move out of the way of the car as it roars into life. We back up and I continue staring at my friends through the back window. They’re waving at me and I wish I could do the same.
“He’s staring at them, it’s as if he knows,” the little one moans as he succumbs to tears once more. Dad pats him on the arm before rolling down a window, and I put my head outside.
We drive for just a few minutes, and we reach a brick building. I’m curious what’s inside. We walk up a ramp, because that is a lot easier for me, and I walk on inside the building with ease. The three of us stand there for a minute or two, before dad hands off the leash to a woman wearing all white.
“We’ll bring you into another room when he’s ready,” she informs my friends. My dad thanks her gruffly before taking me away.
Now, this? This made me uncomfortable. I want to stay with my pals, but I am also curious what is going on. I turn back once or twice, and they did not say anything to me. I kept on moving into another room where I was asked to sit. I did so, I have always been quite obedient, and after a couple of minutes they put a needle inside my arm.
I don’t like this.
I try to fight it, to remove the object from my arm, but I don’t have the strength to. Immediately, two other women come by and hold me still, and I relax a little. They have soft hands, but the needle isn’t nearly as soft. I feel something going into my arms and that tingling feeling makes me uncomfortable. Moments later it stops, and the nurses let me go. I rise to my feet, staring around a little curiously, before the woman who had walked me in returns. She tells me I’m a good boy, before walking me out back down another hallway into another room.
The little one and dad are already waiting there for me. Upon seeing them I sprint into the room, or at least I try to, and I collapse at their feet. They immediately join me on the floor, staying as loyal as ever, and begin petting me.
“It should only take a couple minutes, but take as much time as you need,” the woman in white said. Dad and the little one nod and thank her before returning their attention back to me.
I am warm and comfortable now, even on this cold floor. I’m not on my pillow, but that’s okay, because I’ve got the two best friends any guy would be lucky to have right next to me. I look at them, wagging my tail rigorously, and the little one moves forward. He grabs me around the head and I don’t fight it, in fact I lean in closer to him. He squeezes me for a moment, whispering things in my ear, before letting go.
When he let go, I felt something leave me. It was the remaining strength I had to keep my head up. I gently put my head on the floor, and I closed my eyes. I could feel the exhaustion overcoming me as it always had, but this time it happened far quicker. I keep wagging my tail, to tell my friends I was still with them and I wasn’t just shutting them out with sleep. Dad put his hand on my head and told me he loves me. If I could have told him the same, I would have.
The little one scratches my belly, and I wish I could kick my legs like I always had. I would have loved to roll over on my back right now, letting him scratch all of my torso, but that would be impossible at this point. Instead I continue wagging my tail, to ensure they knew I was appreciating their touches.
“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” the little one whispers, “and there will never be another dog like you.”
My tail begins to slow, and I am unsure as to why that is. I hope they don’t think I’m disrespecting them or anything, I can’t really control this now. I feel as if I’m falling asleep, but I can’t really help it.
My tail stops moving altogether, and I begin visualizing all those days of past glory and bliss again. I had few bad days with this family, and so many good ones. Even as I fall asleep, I know my two friends are there next to me, and for that I am sure they will understand. Maybe later we will go on another ride, and maybe after we can go on a walk. It has been a special day filled with love, and I think the only way to capitalize on it would be to go on a nice ride into the sunset.
Little did I know, I was already on my way.
Okay guys, I’ll admit it, I’m tired.
I’m going to go to sleep now, but I promise you I will have strength in an hour or two. And if not, little one, I will see you when you come home from school.
Clifford was put to sleep that day, as his body was collapsing on him for the year leading up to this painful event. We probably waited too long, but it was hard to say goodbye to one of our best friends. I know that his life had to come to an end, but I am also fully aware that regardless of his passing he will always be with me. A little boy becoming a man, and his dog always by his side.
Around the same time of Clifford’s death, my new best friend was just coming into this world, and though she will never replace the spot that Clifford left in my heart, perhaps Chloe was brought into our lives to ease the pain and transition that overwhelming love elsewhere.
