Many college students face the difficult situation of losing a pet-- or rather, a best friend. At around this age, our childhood buddies start to grow old, and some face challenging medical problems.
When I came home for Thanksgiving break in 2014, I was saddened to find out that my beloved friend was not there. She was recovering at the animal hospital from a surgery, in which her spleen was removed. I didn't know until Christmas time, but she had cancer. This is a fate that every college student fears for their furry friend. I am so incredibly lucky, that my mom made decisions with our dog's treatment that allowed her to stay with us for six more months after the cancer was detected. I am so grateful, that I got to spend a bit of extra time with her. However, not all dogs are this fortunate.
College students often come home to find their friends gone... forever. Cancer and other illnesses not only take the lives away of our two legged loved ones, but our four legged loved ones as well. Not everyone understands this feeling we have when we lose one of our furry friends. So, I’d like to share my experience with everyone, in the form of a letter to my first dog, in the hope that people will better understand how unbreakable the bond between us and our buddies is, and how much they mean to us.
Dear Peca,
I remember the day we first met. I was with daddy. You were the most adorable puppy of them all, sleeping peacefully in your little box in the pet shop. You were all alone, an only puppy, with no siblings, in need of a buddy to last a lifetime. I became that buddy when I finally convinced daddy to get you, much to mommy’s dismay. Daddy and I searched far and wide for the perfect doggie and after there was nowhere left to look and daddy was unsure of what to do, I asked, “but… what about the Australian Shepherd?” The decision was made. I would name you Peca, after a made-up name from a childhood dream and we would be best friends forever.
When you first came home, your intelligence really frustrated daddy. You escaped from your box on your first night, and when we heard the click click click click of your nails on the floor, daddy came, picked you up and put you right back in your box. He took many measures to ensure you would not escape again. As a result, you cried all night, longing to run wild and free like your wolf ancestors.
Over the course of the next few days, you grew used to your new home. You cried less and you trusted us more. Although, you never really trusted us completely until the end. I think that something happened when you were very young, before we met, that traumatized you. Your unusual fears of certain surfaces, heater vents and sewer drains are what make me think this. Despite these incredibly odd quirks, we as a family, myself, daddy, and even eventually mommy, grew very fond of you over time.
Mommy was reluctant to even let you into the family. She was absolutely fuming when daddy said he was getting you. However, when mommy finally came around, you two became the best of friends. Mommy fed you, let you out to go pee pee, took you to the dog park and later, agility. You loved going to agility with mommy. Even though you never ran fast, you tried your best and made everyone smile as you slowly but surely navigated through courses with precision.
Mommy loved you so much that she decided to get another doggie… Misty. You and Misty got along from the start. You hit it off in an instant. When we went to select a doggie out of Misty and her brothers and sisters, you liked Misty the best and so did we. Her goofiness was just too cute to resist. Still to this day, Misty is goofy. After you left us, Misty missed you a lot. She was not quite herself for a few months after. She knew what happened. I know she knew because on your last morning with us, she did not butt in when we were all saying goodbye. I’m sure you remember how Misty used to always butt in whenever anyone gave you attention and not her— but this day was different. Now though, Misty is back to her normal goofy self with only one noticeable difference. You know how you used to play games? How you would stand at the back door and talk, but then when I came to let you outside, you would turn around and walk away? Misty does that now. I am convinced that you told her to keep up the shenanigans!
It’s really hard to believe that this week, you would have been 10-years-old, and that next week, it will be a whole year since the cancer took you away from us. The pain from losing you is still there, but looking back on the good times we had, I feel happier. You were so loved by our family and friends. You made so many people smile. Whenever I was having a rough time, you could sense it. You would come running up to me with a concerned look, and cuddle by my feet. You always put others first. You loved us just as much as we loved you. For the nine years I was able to spend with you, I am eternally grateful. We could not have chosen a better dog.
Love,
Your best friend
