I wasn’t sure what to make of you when I brought you home
for Neeka all those years ago. You’re the only dog she never tried to beat up
when she first met, so that was a good sign. She must have respected that you came
in smelling like the SPCA where you both did hard time.
You and I didn’t click quite as quickly; my love for you was more
of a learning curve. It was really cool how, over time, our bond grew and grew and you ended up being my best furry friend for many years. You weren’t one of those sensitive
types though; your needs were your own, and your love of food was bloody overpowering.
I always joked you would trade me in a heartbeat for half a crouton - you couldn’t have helped
your insatiable self. But I also know that once you gulped it down, you would have
looked around and wondered where the hell I was.
You never had the raw running talent of our huskies - and believe me I know what that kind of comparison feels like - but neither
of us let that stop us from doing it anyway. I have so many memories from all those miles we logged
together. Do you remember the epic snow run
around Arkon Loop? It’s astounding that you were able to do that, so
impressive. You always did like the cool winter runs. And now that I think of
it, the fact you preferred running with booties meant you had more in common with
Iditarod dogs than the huskies did! You were also the best at defense in our
pond hockey games. They were all too puck-obsessed to block the guy with the
stick!
In later years you preferred warmer temps, and I’m so sorry
we didn’t get to the beach again. I longed to take you swimming to soothe your
achy joints. Then we could have sprawled in the grass and enjoyed deep, satisfying sniffs of spring. I wanted to see that contentment in your eyes after enduring the olfactory desert
of winter. That’s not easy for a hound dog.
We were lucky this winter wasn’t too bad, so we could still get around as best we could. I’m grateful for the special time we had these last
few months. It was hard for both of us, but we needed each other.
I never told you, not wanting the others to overhear, but
you were my mom's favourite. With your floppy ears and soulful eyes, you were
pretty damn irresistible. She would have been sad for me today, but she would
also point out how fortunate we all were. A life well-loved is a life
well-lived, she would say.
I’m not sure you knew my name, so I won’t bother signing
this letter.
You knew who I was.
Miss you my friend.
