i really need a hug
i can't believe he's gone... what am i going to do?
It was my sixth holiday season when Bruiser gracefully entered our lives. Dad had just gotten off work seeing as he was still wearing his B.D.U.’s. My family and I had just gotten done decorating the Christmas tree when my dad walked in the garage door with a puppy in the palm of his hands. We had no idea that Dad and Mom were going to get us a puppy! My brother and I jumped up from the couch and starting screaming. Bruiser jumped out of Dad’s arms, jumped on us and starting sniffing everywhere. Bruiser wagged his tail so hard I thought it might fall off. It was almost like a windup toy, or a Jack-in-the-box the way his tail was wagging. I held him but he didn’t want to be held. He wanted to run. We let him outside and he ran around like he was in heaven. I guess since he was locked up in the animal shelter for all of his young life he wanted to get out and explore. We all had a feeling our lives were going to change in a good way since Bruiser was now part of the family.
When I turned sixteen I took Bruiser on car rides around town late at night whenever I felt lonely. He loved riding in the car when he could stick his nose out the window and get his snot all over the glass. Bruiser and I drove until he stopped hanging his head out the window. At that point, I always knew it was time to go home.
When I was still in my teen years, I came home from hanging out with a boy that I had strong feelings for. But, I had just gotten rejected by him. I walked through the garage door needing someone to talk to, but everyone had already gone to bed. I went upstairs to my room and saw Bruiser lying in bed waiting for me. He looked like he had just woken up. He got off the bed, stretched then walked over to greet me. I broke down. Bruiser sat there and looked at me with the saddest eyes I have ever seen. He felt my pain; he knew exactly what I was feeling. I hugged him for the longest time. Bruiser started to inch away because I was squeezing him too hard, so I got ready for bed. But before I could get into bed, Bruiser was already there, head on the pillow where I rest my head at night. After scooting him over, we slept together in a twin size bed. Bruiser didn’t leave my side once that night. He woke up with me in the morning and made sure I was okay by giving me those eyes again. I hugged him, gave him a kiss on his nose and said “You’re the best dog ever.”
Once it’s too late, you appreciate what a miracle life is. You realize that nature is ruthless and our existence is very fragile, temporary and precious. But to go on with your daily affairs, you can’t really think about that. Which is probably why everyone takes the world for granted and why we act so thoughtlessly. It’s very confusing. I suppose it will all make sense when we grow up. -Calvin and Hobbes.
I moved out of my parent’s house after I graduated high school. After packing up all my belongings, I knew the hardest thing I was going to have to do was say goodbye to my dog. I was moving to a whole different state and I wasn’t going to be able to see my dog everyday. He gave me those sad eyes again. Only this time, he was the sad one. He was the one needing a hug. I already said my goodbyes to my parents and most of my friends. I guess I wanted to save the best for last, or maybe the hardest for last.
I kissed him goodbye and I started to get teary eyed. Thoughts were going through my head like: “I can’t do this”, “I can’t leave my dog”, “I can’t leave home”, and “What am I going to do without my dog?” The clock was ticking and I had to leave. I gave Bruiser a hug and walked out the door.
The first night of living alone in a new city in a new apartment was lonely and scary. I couldn’t sleep. Too much was happening at once. For the last twelve years I had been sleeping with a huge dog in my small bed, and for the first time I didn’t have him there, pushing me off the bed, fighting over the pillow and hogging the covers. After what seemed like days, my eyes shut and I fell asleep. This pattern went on for weeks until I realized he was not going to be there with me anymore.
I had gotten into a car accident a few months after I moved away. Thankfully, my brother, J.R. and a few friends came down to help me out. J.R. had mentioned to me earlier that day that he needed to talk to me. Later that night, my brother pulled me outside. It had already gotten dark and grown cold. I was hungry and wanted this little talk to be over with because we all wanted to eat dinner. The moment he told me, I burst out into tears. I had no idea any of this was going on. I now had all the answers to why Bruiser slept all the time and why he didn’t get up to see anybody anymore. My best friend, who was there with me through thick and thin, has bone cancer. J.R. tried to comfort me by saying we might be able to amputate his leg but I wasn’t listening to a word he was saying. He kept talking and I kept blocking it out. The only thing I could concentrate on was one question. Why? Why Bruiser? I kept thinking this was a cruel, cruel joke. But for the first time in his life, J.R. wasn’t joking.
My stomach did a thousand flip-flops and I felt like throwing up. My throat closed up and I couldn’t breathe. I cried so hard my contacts started to dry out. J.R. kept telling me that it’ll be alright. He kept trying to comfort me with phrases like: he’s old. It’s his time.
I went back home a few months after I moved away with intentions of picking up my car from the body shop, not to say goodbye to my best friend of thirteen years. The first thing my dad said to me when I walked through the door was, “Do you have a minute?” I knew it was about my dog. Why else would he pull me aside? My dad went on to say that he got the x-rays back from the veterinarian that morning and said it wasn’t looking good. The cancer spread to the intestines, and he wasn’t going to make it. The vets were estimating about a week for him to live.
I cried myself to sleep that night with Bruiser in bed with me. He gave me his sad eyes and I hugged him so tight. I couldn’t believe it. It was just not the same. He didn’t lie with me like he used to. It took him so long to get up and down the stairs. It was hard for him to do anything he used to do. He slept for twenty hours out of the day.
I’ve always scoffed at people who would take off weeks from school and work because of an animal’s death. I just realized recently that hey, my dog is really part of my family. And a part of my family is dying. I ended up taking off work to be with my friend. My life came crashing to a halt. I spent a week crying over my dog. I didn’t want to do anything or be with anybody but Bruiser. I now understood why people’s lives stop when people or animals die. I knew Bruiser’s time was coming, but I figured he had a few more years on him. Living up to the age of thirteen is quite an accomplishment. I wanted him to be there for me when I came home for my birthday or when I graduated college. Bruiser hated to see me sad, so I won’t be. Let the celebration of life begin.
“If good things lasted forever, would we appreciate how precious they are?”-Calvin and Hobbes.