For Jessie
As I sit here and look at all of the old pictures, I realize that I don't even remember what my life was ever like without her in it. She's been the constant companion for 15 years and counting now, and it seems like a very foreign idea to imagine what my future will be like knowing that she's no longer on earth. To preface why this will be such a massive loss for me, let me tell you a little bit about my dog, Jessie.
My family didn't get Jessie as a puppy, we all actually witnessed her birth. We've had her in our lives since she took her very first breath, opened her eyes for the first time...learned to walk. She's always been there. When our house caught on fire, she lived with us in a hotel for three months. It happened shortly before Halloween when I was nine years old, and so that year, I dressed as a fire fighter, put soot from the charred remains of our garage on my face, and carried Jessie around with my elementary school costume parade.
For the years until I moved out on my own, Jessie would take turns sleeping in all of our beds, buried as far under the sheets as she could get. She didn't seem to care that she left little room for us when she would sprawl out during the night and steal the covers, and to us, it seemed like a small sacrifice to not disturb her and let her sleep like she was. She demanded love and affection, and got pretty much whatever she wanted. I remember taking her to dog beach with my dad and sister, only to be told by my dad that Maggie and I had to sit in the back seat, because Jessie wanted to ride shotgun. He was serious.
She was a fixture at most family gatherings and vacations. Every year when we would all go on our annual summer trip, Jessie was there with us on the 8 hour car ride. We didn't treat her like she wasn't her own little, furry human being, because to us, she was just another member of the family. I remember the strange looks we used to get when my mom would ride with her on the jet skis, Jessie sitting in the front with my mom's arms wrapped around her steering. A mental picture I will certainly never forget.
Through the best and worst times in life, Jessie was there for all of us. She didn't give us unsolicited advice when all we wanted was an ear to listen, she never judged us when we made some of our worst mistakes that we thought we would never get over, and during those times when any of us felt a little down, she always acted like we were the center of her universe. Nothing felt better after a long day, than coming home and seeing her huge doggie smile, and her tail wagging so hard that she could barely stand.
It's been hard watching her grow old. As I grew up, bought my first car, moved out of our family home and back again more than once, met the man of my dreams, she only got slower, and harder of hearing. She stayed with my mom for a long time, and then began living with my dad and sister, and has been since. Every time I would go an visit her, it's like a little bit less of the vibrant young dog that I once knew was there. Over a year ago, she had an extremely horrible stroke, and when that happened, we all feared it was the end. But against all odds, she recovered, and although even slower than before, she soon returned to living life as any other senior dog might do. I feel lucky to have had this extra time with her. Those extra hugs and kisses, especially.
So now I sit here, knowing that the time has come to say goodbye to a friend that I've never been prepared to lose. If I could talk to her and know that she could understand every word I was saying, I would tell her this:
Jessie, my life will never be the same without you in it. I love you more than words can even describe. I will never, ever, even when I am old and gray, forget about the love and joy that you have brought to my life. Thank you for loving me, I promise I will ALWAYS love you. Always.
My family didn't get Jessie as a puppy, we all actually witnessed her birth. We've had her in our lives since she took her very first breath, opened her eyes for the first time...learned to walk. She's always been there. When our house caught on fire, she lived with us in a hotel for three months. It happened shortly before Halloween when I was nine years old, and so that year, I dressed as a fire fighter, put soot from the charred remains of our garage on my face, and carried Jessie around with my elementary school costume parade.
For the years until I moved out on my own, Jessie would take turns sleeping in all of our beds, buried as far under the sheets as she could get. She didn't seem to care that she left little room for us when she would sprawl out during the night and steal the covers, and to us, it seemed like a small sacrifice to not disturb her and let her sleep like she was. She demanded love and affection, and got pretty much whatever she wanted. I remember taking her to dog beach with my dad and sister, only to be told by my dad that Maggie and I had to sit in the back seat, because Jessie wanted to ride shotgun. He was serious.
She was a fixture at most family gatherings and vacations. Every year when we would all go on our annual summer trip, Jessie was there with us on the 8 hour car ride. We didn't treat her like she wasn't her own little, furry human being, because to us, she was just another member of the family. I remember the strange looks we used to get when my mom would ride with her on the jet skis, Jessie sitting in the front with my mom's arms wrapped around her steering. A mental picture I will certainly never forget.
Through the best and worst times in life, Jessie was there for all of us. She didn't give us unsolicited advice when all we wanted was an ear to listen, she never judged us when we made some of our worst mistakes that we thought we would never get over, and during those times when any of us felt a little down, she always acted like we were the center of her universe. Nothing felt better after a long day, than coming home and seeing her huge doggie smile, and her tail wagging so hard that she could barely stand.
It's been hard watching her grow old. As I grew up, bought my first car, moved out of our family home and back again more than once, met the man of my dreams, she only got slower, and harder of hearing. She stayed with my mom for a long time, and then began living with my dad and sister, and has been since. Every time I would go an visit her, it's like a little bit less of the vibrant young dog that I once knew was there. Over a year ago, she had an extremely horrible stroke, and when that happened, we all feared it was the end. But against all odds, she recovered, and although even slower than before, she soon returned to living life as any other senior dog might do. I feel lucky to have had this extra time with her. Those extra hugs and kisses, especially.
So now I sit here, knowing that the time has come to say goodbye to a friend that I've never been prepared to lose. If I could talk to her and know that she could understand every word I was saying, I would tell her this:
Jessie, my life will never be the same without you in it. I love you more than words can even describe. I will never, ever, even when I am old and gray, forget about the love and joy that you have brought to my life. Thank you for loving me, I promise I will ALWAYS love you. Always.