I was only nine years old when I finally got my childhood dream: a puppy. After months and months of convincing my parents, they had finally agreed. I still remember the day I went to go pick her out. A small bundle of white fur. I brought home this sweet little being, not much bigger than a can of Diet Coke.
In those beginning moments, with my new puppy, I didn't look ahead. I didn't think about all the moments of my life she would be there for. I didn't think about all the memories I'd make that she would forever be a part of. And I certainly never thought there would come a day when she would no longer be here creating pitter patter sounds on our tile floor.
I never thought of how many nights she would fall asleep at the bottom of my bed, never considered just how many tears she'd lick off my face whenever I was crying over teenage girl things. Or, just how many mornings she'd spend laying outside my bedroom door, waiting oh-so-patiently for me to wake up and say hello.
She always there on my first days of school from fourth grade through senior year, always cooperating in the pictures my mom would take. There was never an afternoon she wasn't at her spot waiting for me to walk back in the door. Even as I set my suitcases at my garage door, ready to leave for college, she was there, an unsure look on her face knowing what those meant -- goodbyes.
She has been in my life for as long as I can remember. While I was growing up, year after year, I often forgot that she was growing old. And now, that she is nearing the end of her loving and playful life, the unbearable sadness hits. The idea that there are no more walks around the neighborhood in her future. There are no more mornings where she'll be sitting outside my room. There are no more lazy summer days spent on her shady hill in the backyard. No more car rides with the windows down.
And in her long and healthy life, there are just a few things I hope she always knew.
I hope she knew that we were never really that mad when she accidently pooped in the house. I hope she knew that there would never be too much time in between the goodbyes and the hellos. I hope she knew that we always trusted all ten pounds of her to be our loyal guard dog. I hope she knew that we'd rub her belly for days if that's what would make her happiest. I hope she knew that her running into the room, hopping on to the bed, and licking my face was my favorite way to be woken up. I hope she knew that she made us feel loved and safe. I hope she knew how lucky we felt to be her humans.
I hope she always knew just how much we love her. And I hope she knows just how much we will miss her, sitting on our couch, happily wagging her tail.
