Stories That Never Get Told

Because She Was Mine

It seems like just yesterday she was running through the fields in our shared backyard as if there was no slowing down. Exhaustion meant nothing her, and she was a bundle of energy. There was nothing holding her back, and I envied her in a way. She was so free like I would never be.

I remember the day I brought her home. I was terrified because she was my own. She was solely under my care, and she was looking to me for guidance. The sound of her feet as she trailed behind me was like music to my ears even if I sometimes tripped over her. She worshipped the ground I walked on, and I found myself wishing to do everything in my power for her. The fear of failing her was always in the back of my mind but her complete faith in me kept me moving.

When I fell into a pit of darkness, it was her warm body pressed close to mine that made me open my eyes. When my tears stained my face, it was her that washed them off with solely her love. I couldn't lose myself when she was around because for the first time in my life, I couldn't stand to disappoint anyone.

Time marched slowly on, and with it so did life. There were high points, like meeting my first love, and there were low points, like the day he shut the door that he would never again open. She was there for all of it with the patience I had only heard of in saints. With endless love and forgiveness, she kept close and helped pull me through with each fall or stumble. Life continued to march on and we were left to simply follow behind.

I knew the day would come, but I kept saying it wouldn't happen today. She was fine, we were fine, nothing could change. Yet, she was slowing down. She still followed me around, but sometimes she would struggle to get up after me. She would often lay at my feet, and sleep for hours unlike her younger years.

I could see time taking her from me, and it only made me hug her tighter trying to tell her it was okay. It was when she started to limp that i admitted to myself that I could no longer deny what was happening. I rushed her to the doctor who delivered the news of her disease to me. I cried for an hour and she simply slowly wagged her tail at me as if to tell me it would be okay.

She didn't have long, and there wasn't anything anyone could do except make her comfortable. On the drive home, I promised her that there was nothing I wouldn't do. I carried her when she could no longer walk, I fed her when she could no longer eat, and stayed close to let her know she wasn't alone.

It happened on a Monday in July, and I cried for three hours. I held her in my arms, and begged God for one more moment. One more minute of endless love. I held her fur tightly in fear that if i let go, she would slip away. I don't know how I got the strength but I carried her outside into the sun. The hole was dug in the moments where I could bear it, and laying her in it was one of be hardest moments of my life.

I debated on taking her collar off and keeping it, but I left it on. I had no doubt she would be in God's hands now, but I wanted them to know that if she ever got lost, she did have a home. She was loved. I gave her one more quick pat, not wanting to drag this out any longer. She needed to be laid to rest, and I didn't want to hold her up. I carefully poured the dirt over her, swallowing back more tears until it was finally done. I didn't have a special marker for her, but I knew this spot of yard would always be sacred.

I don't remember how long I stood there or how I made it back inside. I do, however, remember standing in the kitchen for what felt like days. I remember waiting for the sound of claws on hardwood, or the thump of a tail against the wall. Surely, people would have laughed at me at my behavior, but I was mourning not only a friend but also a family member.

The dog I had rescued all those years ago had ended up rescuing me and I was scared for how i would be after her. I was lost at sea, and the only lighthouse was missing. In those moments, I swore off another dog indefinitely. There was no way I could open my heart to that heartbreak again.

For two years, I kept that promise. I was alone in my home. Time had could heal wounds but this one would always sting.

It was a phone call from my mother that got me to question myself. She told me about her neighbor's dog and begged me to come at least look. I fought for as long could but an argument with my mother never ended well. I found myself pulling into a driveway on a Wednesday, and I sat there in that car for ten minutes. Upon finally entering the house, I was welcomed with smiles and quickly dragged into a back room. Laying in the floor was her old pup with six small ones laid about. I tried to pull myself out of the grasp but I was held firmly in place. Realizing there was nothing I could do to escape, I sat as far away as possible. Didn't my mother understand or was this her way of torturing me?

I kept my head down to block out everything, but after ten minutes I felt a warm body pressed into my side. It didn't move or try to catch my attention, the warmth simply laid next to me and quietly thumped its tail on to the floor. I carefully looked over and found small, blue eyes staring back at me with such wonder that I nearly started to cry. I tried to hold out on picking it up, but soon the squirming mass was pressed to my chest. It took a few moments but she finally calmed down. I was told she was ready to go if I wanted her. She stared at me and held my gaze as if letting me know that she was willing to try if I was.

I remember the day I brought her home, terrified because she was mine.

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As she grew up, she tore through those fields like a young pup i once knew. And if I found her laying next to disturbed earth in my sacred corner, I would simply pat her head and tell her about you.

I think you would have liked her