Being an only child is hard, but you were my substitute sister. I named you Cookie when I was 10, and for the past 13 years, you were always there for me. You were there for most of my monumental moments, like the fear of leaving elementary school behind (where my biggest problem was learning the 4s multiplication table) and walking into the halls of the dreaded middle school.
You watched me panic the night before my first day; I wasn’t sure how I could possibly remember my locker combination or get from one class to the next before the bell rang. You lied on my bed as I picked out gym clothes to change in to, and sat at my feet as I studied for my first social studies test. You watched TV with me when I fractured my wrist in seventh grade playing gym class volleyball, you listened to me sing Jonas Brothers songs at the top of my lungs, and you let me chase you around the house and play with you when there was a snowstorm and I had no one else to play with.
In high school, you always knew when I was sad because my school crush didn’t say hi to me that day. You witnessed me arguing with my mom and dad when I wanted to learn how to drive, and then the arguments that came after I finally got my learners permit. You stared at me as I left for my first day of work at my first job, and you were sitting right by the door when I came home from my high school graduation. You were always there for me when I came home, no matter what kind of day I had. I would pick you up and make you dance with me in the kitchen, and even though you never seemed amused, I always hoped that you were.
When I left for college, you watched as we all packed up the car and drove off. You were my hardest goodbye when it came time to leave. You were always so hard to say goodbye to, even when it was just for a family vacation. You were there for me when my dad passed away last year, and while you didn’t know what was going on, you sat with me while I cried and mourned the loss. As much as you were my best friend, he was yours, so I know that you didn’t get what happened, but you were mourning the loss as well.
Dogs can die of a broken heart, and while they say that you died of old age, a little piece of me thinks that you were just too lost without one of your owners around to keep living. He would give you his leftovers, walk you, talk to you, and spend his days with you as well. You missed him just as much as we do, and I thank you for staying with me as long as you could, because I needed you, too.
A lot of people don’t think about what their childhood pet sees and goes through with you, but they go through everything, and for that I truly thank you for letting me chase you around, naming you Cookie, and being there for me for more than half of my life.
“Once you’ve had a wonderful dog, a life without one, is a life diminished.”
–Dean Koontz
You were my first wonderful dog, and although I will have others some day, I will always love and miss you.
