To my puppy,
You weren't a puppy anymore, but to me you always were.
I got home from college in May to find out you had a limp and it had been getting worse. About a week and a half later, we noticed your leg was swollen and getting worse. Finally we decided to take you to the vet and it wasn't good news.
You had cancer.
The vet gave us some medicines to give you to help with pain and swelling. You never really seemed to be in pain, and the swelling didn't appear to slow down. We were told the medicine would add months to your life.
I spent a lot of time cuddling you the next few weeks and aside from the limp, you were still the same happy, energetic puppy you always were.
Then June 11 came. I had to leave to work at a summer camp until mid August. I was afraid to leave and honestly didn't want to go because I didn't wanna leave you. Everyone kept telling me you'd still be here when I got back. Even I told myself you had until at least October. But everyone was wrong.
At camp, I had your picture hanging on the wall next to my bed. I had a stuffed chocolate lab webkinz with me as well, that definitely had some of your fur in it, to make me feel closer to you. Every night I would hold the webkinz and say goodnight to you, hoping that somehow, you would hear.
The times I was able to FaceTime you, I know you could hear me, but you didn't know where the sound was coming from. I could see you, but it wasn't the same as being able to pet you. I watched you roll around on your back like you were still young and fine.
Then, one Tuesday in July, I answered the phone to hear my dad say, "I have bad news. It's about Chloe." He told me they were putting you down on Friday. I asked if they could wait until the following week, because I would have been able to come home the following Monday night and Tuesday. As much as I didn't want to receive that phone call, I wish I would have gotten it one day earlier, because I could have gone home then too.
I spent the rest of that week crying at random times, in my bunk when no one was there, in the costume shed, anywhere people weren't around. When Friday came, I was a mess. Luckily I wasn't on duty for rest hour. I found a spot on camp where there was good service (which was rare) and I facetimed my parents so I could say goodbye. That call was almost 20 min. 20 min of me just looking at you laying on the floor. Of me saying "I love you" over and over again. Me sobbing in the wiffleball shed just wishing I was at home. Hanging up was one of the hardest things for me to do.
After that call, I made sure to keep myself busy.
After that night, I put the webkinz in my car and took your picture off the wall for a few days before putting it back up. If I hadn't done that, I would have broken down every time I saw it.
Coming home on August 13 was the worst, because I was coming home to a dog free house for the first time in 10 years. I may have only been home for five days, but those five days were do lonely without you falling asleep beside me or jumping on my bed in the morning.
So because I didn't really get the chance to say it,
Goodbye baby girl, I love you so much. I hope you are eating all the pigs ears, chewing on all the bones, and chasing so many squirrels.