Most of you already know that I lost my puppy dog Booby last week. She’d not been doing well for a few weeks, so we knew it was coming, and thankfully, we got to say goodbye. So while I am heartbroken that I don’t get to scratch her butt (right above her tail) or rub her ears anymore, I feel so lucky to have had such an amazing companion for the last 13 years.
A woman found her running along the side of the highway in North Dallas the day before I decided to get a dog. From the first moment we met (she peed on the floor) I knew she was the one for me.
Every time I would leave town I would worry like crazy that something would happen to me and I wouldn’t see her again; or worse, that something would happen to her while I was away. But every time, I would come home and be greeted by crazy barking and a tail wagging so furiously that it moved her entire body.
I took her to Starbucks with me 3 days after I brought her home. I tied her leash to a table and went inside to get my coffee. When I came out, she’d pulled out of her harness and was gone. After a panicked search of the shopping center I returned to my car to find her sitting next to the driver’s side door, waiting for me.
She moved cross-country with me twice, outlasted several relationships (and even more friendships), survived four cats, and made me smile more times than anyone could count.
She taught me how to be patient, how to forgive, and how to find joy in the smallest things.
I honestly feel that she knew that my heart was in good hands and that she could trust Scott to support me through this. And I think she knew that she was safe and loved and that it was OK to let go.
She was the best dog I’ve ever known, right up to the end, and I will miss her forever.