Last night when I went to bed, my dog was alive. Tonight, he is gone.
Sleep isn’t coming easy tonight.
If there is one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that life stops for nothing and for nobody. 2014 has shown me my lowest lows, but I can easily say that this day is the lowest of them all.
Today my dog died.
Nobody prepares you for this. You can see it coming from a mile away, but you can never be prepared. Two days ago I got the call that I’ve dreaded for months now, that my puppy had to be put down.
The past few days I have done everything in my power to ignore it, to forget it, and to take my mind off of it. But there is nothing to numb it now. He’s gone. Around 6:20 tonight he breathed his last breath. But not before eating just one more McDonald’s ice cream cone, one of his favorite human treats (after Taco Bell of course, and peanut butter fudge – my brother and I accidentally let him have half a tray while we were home alone with him within a year of having him around).
Mom sent me a video of him scarfing it down (much slower than he used to, of course). He went away a happy dog.
I can only hope that we gave him the best life he could have dreamed of. He was a goof for sure. Probably the only Border Collie to exist that could not catch a frisbee, or even a piece of popcorn, to save his life. I’m gonna miss the barking at hugs, aluminum foil, cookie trays, tape measures, umbrellas etc.. The face spinning around in the back of our van, and the pouncing on shadows that all of my friends used to get a kick out of, waving their hands around making shapes for him to chase around the patio.
I’ll miss the begging for food at dinner, and the scratch of the pantry door, begging for just another treat.
Heck, I’ll even miss the allergies. I’ll miss the weezing, the sneezing, the watery eyes, and the breathing treatments. I’ll miss the high school years where I suffered from allergies, all because it was my one childhood hope to have a puppy. I would do it all again.
Tucker brought my family and I the greatest memories. I remember bringing him home as a little ball of fluff, crying because I was sad we took him from his mommy. I wanted to take him back. I am so glad we didn’t. I watched him from the window of the van, laying in the cold snow refusing to go potty because he was a scared little puffball. I remember this all too well. It really feels like it was just yesterday.
And that’s the next worst thing. What am I supposed to do now? I guess I’m supposed to just go be an adult. The final piece of my childhood is gone. He is never coming back. He will become more and more of a memory as each day passes. I will forget the smell of his horrible breath and the light in his eyes when I would come home from school after being gone months at a time.
Because next time he will not be there. And he will continue to not be there, and it’s killing me.
Tucker was loved. He was loved by my family, by all of my friends, and he was loved by me.
Rest in peace, Tucker. I miss you so much. We miss you so much.