From Old House Brown Dog, to just Old House...

 **Spoiler alert- this is a sad one. I’ll go back to construction and happiness soon I promise.**

One month ago today my best friend went to heaven. 

I know he’s there, not because it’s where all dogs go, but because he was the best of the best. In every single way. For over 11 years Fred and I were inseparable. I referred to myself as his service human and that is exactly what I was. But he was even more than that to me. He made me complete, almost a part of me, and without him I feel like I am missing a limb, an important one at that. 

Neither of us wanted to be away from each other very long, and we both were the most excited to see each other again even when we had only been apart a few minutes. In fact the reunion we had every time I came up from my basement office after working a few hours matched that of the ones we had when I got back from a trip. He would greet me with a wild violent tail thumping (usually from his bed) and I with a hundred kisses for him. I’ll miss that tail thump for the rest of my days.

I’m not sure what the normal timeframe is to mourn the loss of a dog, but I’m pretty sure I’m pushing my limit with no end in sight. For the past month I’ve struggled to get out of bed, I wake up each day thinking maybe it was a horrible dream and he will be waiting for me to give him his treats and breakfast when I wake up. So I stay in bed and cry hoping that is the case. It never is.

I’m trying with all my might to look back on the memories we have and smile, because those memories are so sweet. All of them. I know they are, but instead of smiling I just weep when I see his picture or think of him. I’m devastated that we will never take another walk and I’ll never hear him groan at me or force me to pet him. I keep worrying that the best part of my life is behind me and nothing will ever be as good as it was the last 11 years. I know it’s crazy, but maybe I'm a little crazy. 

I’ve always been a dog person, my parents had a dog the day I was born and consistently had a dog while I lived with them, but Fred was MY first dog. The one who showed me how to take care of someone else and love with my whole heart, it makes me so sad to think I might never have a dog again. I hope I will, but that feels very far away if ever, I can’t imagine any dog ever filling his paws and I don’t know if I ever want one to. 

My house is way too clean and quiet and I’m forced to be alone for the first time in my adult life. I’ve always had Fred here with me, Jose travels for work most of the time and people would always ask me if I got lonely. I never understood that question, of course not, I had Fred. Well, now I get it. And it’s lonely. So lonely.

I know this post has been sad AF but that’s where I’m at. It’s not all bad, I’m still having fun and finding ways to stay busy and keep my mind off the sad, but at least once a day I have a major meltdown. We’re talking a three year old temper tantrum where I cry so loud I worry the neighbors will hear me. I hope those stop. They give me a headache and I want to remember him and be happy. That’s what I’m working towards, just not sure how I get there.

If you’ve lost a dog, I’m sure you get it and I am here for you. Or maybe you don’t and I’m a lunatic for being this upset. If you have a dog hug it and kiss it and don’t take a single minute for granted, that is the best thing you can do, enjoy that sweet sweet baby for those of us who are no longer able to.