I miss my damn dog (a sad post. Feel free to skip).
It has been a little over a month since my dog died. I started thinking about him today and I couldn't stop crying. I miss having the 80 lb addition in my life, by my side through everything. I know that everything eventually dies, but he was only 6 years old. (he died of bloat in the middle of the night). It feels so unfair. I had people tell me all the time what an amazing dog he was, how well behaved and personable he was (Have you seen UP? Max was basically Doug, just a friendly, happy dog who loved the ball and loved his people).
I got Max when I was 18, and he was a HUGE part of my life. I miss playing fetch, and going to the dog park. I miss dragging myself out of bed because Max wanted to go explore. I miss his inability to refrain from jumping into any body of water he came across (I always kept a towel in my car, just in case). I miss having something other than myself to care for. I miss insisting that I bring him with me everywhere (so what if he was a big dog, people can deal). I miss having to spell out w-a-l-k because even if you said it in casual conversation he freaked out. I miss the little happy dance he'd do when he saw me. I miss the way he brought the ball back every time. I miss my huge lump of drooly, slobbery dog.
Max and Me
I got Max when I was 18, and he was a HUGE part of my life. I miss playing fetch, and going to the dog park. I miss dragging myself out of bed because Max wanted to go explore. I miss his inability to refrain from jumping into any body of water he came across (I always kept a towel in my car, just in case). I miss having something other than myself to care for. I miss insisting that I bring him with me everywhere (so what if he was a big dog, people can deal). I miss having to spell out w-a-l-k because even if you said it in casual conversation he freaked out. I miss the little happy dance he'd do when he saw me. I miss the way he brought the ball back every time. I miss my huge lump of drooly, slobbery dog.
Max and Me