So, Monday evening, my dog, Muttley, was put to sleep. He was very old and cancer-ridden and in pain, so it was the right thing to do. I know that. But it's still unbearably difficult to let go of a pet. I've been crying off and on since I was told that he was going to have to be put to sleep, and I'm still crying off and on. I miss him. We had Muttley for over ten years.
It's just...I keep remembering things. Like how mom and dad would always make sure that I had Muttley in my room on Christmas Eve so he wouldn't scare "Santa" away. And how my sister and I made up some silly song about Muttley. I even remember all of the words. We used to give him belly rubs and he would just get this look on his face, like he was in heaven.
I remember how Muttley was my dog. He always seemed to like me the most. He'd listen to me most often, he'd usually sleep in my bed, sometimes he'd even just follow me around for no particularly good reason.
I remember his bark. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever heard. It sounded like he was dying and in extreme distress every time he barked. It scared us the first few times we heard it because we seriously thought that something was wrong with Muttley.
He survived being hit by a car and having his hip broken. He survived several bouts of pancreatitis. He swallowed tampons that swelled up in his intestines a few times that had to be cut out. He was diabetic. The vet diagnosed him with cancer and told us that he wouldn't last for more than a few months. Well, he lasted years. I was convinced that he'd survive a nuclear apocalypse. But everything finally seemed to just converge on him all at once. And we just couldn't stand to see him in the pain that he was in.
But I still miss him.
Mr. Muttley was a very educated puppy.
He went to school, and then to college,
and became a very famous scientist.
I love you, Muttley.