"I'm a Dog, too!"
By, Kari Gardiner
"If being a dog means you're like (Lynzee), who never turns her back on you, and who's always there to pick you up when you fall, and loves you no matter how many times you mess up; if that's what it means to be a dog, then, yeah, I'm a dog, too!" - Quote from Mr. Peabody and Sherman (altered slightly).
For nearly 14 years I've had a loyal companion, always quietly there in the background of my life. If only people could more accurately emmulate the unfailing qualities of a dog. The world would certainly be a better place. Lynzee had all of those qualities and more. She was everything that made up a fabulous dog. She was loyal, good natured, patient, extending her love unconditionally, always there for me when I needed her, and perhaps her most endearing quality - she was pocket-sized.
Saying good-bye to my unfailing friend is one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do. Since I turned 18, she's been a major part of my life. It astounds me to think of all the major life changing events Lynzee has been witness to in my life. She meet my future husband on our first date, she watched our relationship progress, and then came with us when we got married. She was there when I was a newlywed, trying to figure things out. She watched me become a mother - she greeted my children with that same unconditional love she always gave to me. She served as a comforter when I lost my son - patiently letting me cry and stroke her in my lap. She endured moving many times - happy, as long as she had a place to sprawl out in the sunlight. She watched me grow and change, she watched the family grow and change. And through all the changes, she remained my faithful, loyal pet.
It's always amazing to me that in this world of constant change, we still tend to resist profound changes. We know things cannot possibly stay the same forever, but we still cling to the hope that they might, or perhaps that we won't have to face difficult changes. Months ago, I knew Lynzee was slowing down, and I suspected she might be in pain, but I didn't want to think about the decisions I might have to make regarding her decline. I put it off as long as I could. The fact that I didn't want her to suffer, or endure a long difficult death, lead me to understand that I needed to let her go. She wanted to be free. I could provide her this kindness. I pray she will understand that I acted out of love.
Dogs really are extraordinary creatures. So giving, so trusting, so kind, so gentle. I wish I could be more like that. If I can live my life loving others the way Lynzee loved me, then I will feel I have lived a successful life. If I can teach that concept to my children, then I've taught them all they need to know.
How I will miss that eager little body, shaking with excitement as I walk in the door. I'll miss the little noises she made in her sleep. I'll miss stroking her soft cotton fur. I'll miss those big eyes, gazing at me with unfathamoble trust. I'll miss the way she warmed my lap. I'll miss how gentle she was with my children. I'll miss watching her chase after the birds in the springtime. I'll miss watching her soak up the warm sun by the window. I'll miss her tiny bark of excitement when she'd play.
Goodbye, Lynzee. Thank you for everything.
4 months ago