Just less than a week ago, I got the horrible news that my sweet boy, my first puppy ever, passed away. I was, and still am, completely heartbroken. It came completely out of nowhere and not even the vet really knows what happens. One second I'm celebrating taking my last final and finishing my freshman year of college, and the next I'm sobbing after hearing the news that my dog passed away.
We got my puppy, Steele, a little over two years ago, and I've never been more excited. I've always wanted a dog, but it just never seemed to happen. When my dad first told me and my sister we were getting a dog, more specifically a husky, we were beyond excited. We counted down the days until we could have him and I went to the airport to get him myself. He was so small, literally shaking in my arms after the plane ride. He was my puppy and I was so happy.
He seriously had such a personality, so goofy and silly. He wanted to be friends with my cat so badly, but she was not interested in the slightest. He was so friendly and always happy to see me. One of my favorite parts of visiting home from college was knowing I would be able to see him and he would be excited to see me.
In just the two short years that I knew Steele, he became part of our family. He literally became, as my dad says, our brother. I can't even fathom the thought that I'm actually never going to see him again. I'll never be able to hug his fluffy body or attempt to hold his "hand", which he absolutely hated.
It hasn't really hit me yet that he's gone. I haven't been able to build up the courage to even go to my dad's house yet because I know he won't be there and I'm not sure if I can handle that.
He wasn't even three years old, but I hope we were able to make him happy in the two and a half short years we had him.
I love you, Steele.