Last evening I had to put my dog, my best friend, Bruce to sleep.
I'm not really sure why I'm even writing this, but I know that I find solace when I type or drive, but being that the latter is now four bucks a gallon, I think I'll just find some peace here.
It's pretty hard to believe he's gone. They say detachment is a way of coping, and I'm trying my best with that right now. As soon as we got home from the hospital (which by the way, I definitely recommend the Yorba Regional Animal Hospital), I made a point to throw away his dish, food, toys, and anything else I could find that reminded me of him, and doing so was just as tough as finally letting go and saying goodbye. I know that just when I think I've recovered, I'll be empty again knowing that I've finally gotten to that point. I really don't know how to explain this grief; it's really bizarre. It's also a day after my birthday. Rollercoaster for sure.
I was 8 years old when I came home and saw a puppy sleeping underneath the dinner table. Over the years it would be his favorite spot to be when we ate (Bruce always like being around people), that is, until he got too big. Then it was off to jumping over barriers, running all around the neighborhood, digging holes in the backyard, and fighting would-be robbers. It still seems like yesterday that I would take naps with him. Needless to say he was the epitome of what a dog should be, and never once got fleas, either.
I'm 23 now, and I thought I would be ready for this day- I'm not. Although he came up about a month short of his 15th birthday, I cherish every single moment that came with my Shar-Pei/St. Bernard mix. I'm sure some of you have had my sentiment also with pets of your own. Bear with me, this is my first time. I still think I hear him barking.
It's eerily quiet in my house, and it's driving me crazy. I don't know what else to say.
I will miss those eyes that knew me so well. I love you buddy. You were everything.
Bruce
06.06.93-04.20.08
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