A year ago today, we lost our grumpy-old-man dog. Still the worst day of my life. I know, some horrible shit happened in the last 365 days, but this one is mine. Give me this one day.
He was the first dog I could say was my dog, yet he was not my dog. He loved Lemur from the first moment until the last, and tolerated me with a growl, bared teeth, and the occasional lick.
There’s still a huge hole in my heart. I loved that dog more than myself. He was the foundation of our little family. He was the reason we came home after work, and the reason we went to work, so he would be happy to see us when we got home.
Despite my belief, losing our fur baby did not kill us. Nor did it make us stronger, not me, anyway. I caved a month later and got another dog, a nine-month-old rescue mutt I love more than myself.
A year ago, goodbye felt eternal, but it’s not. Our grumpy pup is in every song, every scent, every bunny chase, and every squirrel chirp. New pup reminds us while he creates new memories.
Some days are harder than others. Every day is bittersweet. Some days are so, so sweet, while today is quite bitter. I’m not going to lie and say we’re all better, a year later. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt. Love doesn’t pass away without breaking your heart.
I miss you, little grump. I will love you forever. I can’t wait to see you again.