My Heart Dog

Part of what I share here are pieces of my life. The images you see on my blog is how I view the world and along with that are words I don’t usually say. This is one of those posts that is personal and made of my words.

I stumbled up the stairs and into my bedroom, it had been a long day, but I knew he had to go outside to do his business. I started keeping him in a crate because he was a mischievous puppy.

As soon as I entered the room, all I could see was white. White little micro beads EVERYWHERE. He had somehow grabbed a cute little pink micro bead pillow from my bed, dragged it into his create and destroyed it.

As soon as he saw me, the white beads all over his face and in his jowls, fell off as he wiggled with excitement. I told you he was mischievous and such a typical puppy. I knew I was in for it….I was furious, but not for long. I fell for that sweet baby, my Bubba.

Last week, my big ol’ fur baby passed away.

I called him Bubba. His real name was Rocky, but in true Tara-nature, I randomly created a nickname for him. He was my heart dog. I’ve loved each pet that has come into my life, but for one reason or another, I bonded with this boy more so than the others. Spoiled too much for his own good, he claimed the front seat of the car and I would full-willingly ride in the back, taking up most of the bed, I would maneuver to sleep around him and two Lazy Boy chairs that were just for him.

Sadness has been lingering, but so has feelings of anger. I don’t want to feel anger, out of all the feelings, I want to feel why I loved him so much. I am angry. So angry. It’s been days. I feel my emotions sneak up driving down the road, in the middle of dinner, getting gas. I can’t get it together. I’ve been through passing of people and other beloved pets, this time it’s different. I’m grieving differently and having a hard time working my way through it.

It may sound crazy or ridiculous how a boxer puppy that came into my life over a decade ago has consumed a piece of my heart. I really don’t care how it sounds, he was my baby.

I’m doing what I can to remember the happy times he gave, all of the years I did get to spend with him. A dark cloud consumes my thoughts, breaking through it is hard, I really just want to escape it.

This evening on my way home, my head flooded with thoughts of his passing and the anger started to creep in as my thoughts turned to surrounding events. At that moment, a friend texted me a video. Something so silly and cute, but with a message that I needed to hear in that moment: Dogs make the world a better place everyday, with little acts of kindness. Indeed he did. And that’s something I’ll never forget.

Even if he lived to be 20 years old, it wouldn’t have been long enough, but with me, I’ll carry the memories. Rest easy sweet boy.

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