Four Paws & Fur Love: A letter for Petie

I remember the day we got you. I was actually upset and didn’t want another dog, since we had just brought Spade home; a little puppy who could have been your sibling. You were only supposed to stay with us for a couple of weeks, and when we met to pick you up in my red Mazda3 at the BP gas station in Zebulon, I couldn’t help but immediately fall in love with you. Little did I know that I would need you more than you could have ever known over the next 8 years. I would become your Mom, and you were my saving grace in so many dark times.

Your first year with me, we moved two times and you were always by my side. Late night car rides, cuddles, zoomies, and all the love that God could grant me with. I never had my own dog growing up, one that I was solely responsible for and cared for like I did with you. You were my child, you depended on me just as much as I depended on you. I needed you and still do.

From the beginning, you and I bonded. You knew when I was sad, and needed comfort. Every time you nudged me with your nose, and buried your face into me you could feel that I needed love and affection. From late nights laughing on the floor with you or laying in your bed with you, to watching you chase Charlie across the house as she giggled. These moments I cherish. I would do anything to feel you again.

Petie, you are my child and always have been. I have mourned losing you everyday since you left me.
I know you couldn’t live forever, but I needed you. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

You and I would go on car rides together, even though you didn’t like the wind and hated having your face near the window. We have gone from the coast to the mountains, to Aunt Tree’s with all of the babies surrounding you and Gigi’s where you could run with Baxter, Carly, and Angel. Sharing any bed I owned with you, moving countless times, and playing fetch in the yard. Lake days, where you got your own steak and 5-star meal, taking you to the groomer and remembering how excited you were when we saw each other next.

Snow days, couch days, and every day in between; it was always me and you. Just as I grew up, you grew older. Steps became a little harder and you didn’t play as much. But I could always get you into a cheerful mood by playing on the floor with you, trying to “catch” your paws. I learned about the importance of the food you ate; making sure you got the best nutrition that I could afford, and often going without so you didn’t. I learned to be patient when you couldn’t hear me the first time I called. I also learned very early on, that you loved to run and you were a master at escaping. Which was always a game to you, that even Gigi played a time or two!

While I grew up and learned from loving you, I have also learned that there is no pain like losing you. I have learned that I have to be wise about decisions I make to ensure your brother and sister, Sly and Pixie, are always taken care of. I’ve accepted the fear of owning another dog; because no one can ever replace you. No matter how much I wish I had you here with me, I’m terrified of not loving enough because I only want you and I fear that I won’t be able to move past you.

Petie, you are my child and always have been. I have mourned losing you everyday since. I look forward to the day I can wrap my arms around you again, and hold you.

I’d give up every comfort in this lifetime and the next, if I could have you here with me right now. You’ve been gone for a year, 365 days without my very best friend and it hurts now just as it did the day I lost you. I watched you take your last breath, counted the number of heart beats you had left. Cradled you in my arms and felt hopeless. I was numb, and still am. There is an emptiness at home without you being here. Not hearing your paws walk across the tile in the kitchen, and your collar jingle throughout the house feels wrong and out of place. There is a hole in my heart that I know will never be filled.

I know you couldn’t live forever, but I needed you. You were the only reason that kept me on this earth when I hit my lowest. I couldn’t leave you with anyone else, not knowing that you might not be taken care of like I wanted or loved the way you deserved. I can say now without a doubt, if it wasn’t for you in 2021, I wouldn’t be here. I didn’t want to live, but you made me. You saved me, Petie. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Gigi got me a small honeycomb shaped urn that I can wear on a necklace. I cried in the driveway the day I got it in the mail. I wear a piece of you around my neck, everyday. Just to feel you close to me. I often find myself holding it between my thumb and fingers when I’m anxious or upset. I keep your collar in my truck, because you haven’t had your car ride in this one since I had to get rid of the Jeep. There is no trace of you in this truck, and I cried the day I got home after getting it. It hit me like a brick wall, that while I’m experiencing something new I can’t share it with you. I can’t share those happy moments with you and it’s not fair. For someone to love as much and as hard as I love you, it’s not fair that I don’t have you in my life anymore.

I’m angry. I wish that I could have done more to save you. I’m angry that I couldn’t save you. I’m hurt and often wonder if I did enough for you. If I waited too long because I was selfish and didn’t want to lose you or if you knew how much I loved you. There are events in my life that haven’t happened yet, and I can’t share those with you. I wanted pictures with you, of us together even though you could not stand to have your photo taken. I wanted you to walk with me down the isle at my wedding, and to travel with me to all of the National Parks. I wanted you and I to grow old together.

Looking back, I regret not spending time with you before you got sick when I had COVID. I regret not letting you in the bed with me, and not being your Mom like I should have been. I was selfish and should have spent that time with you, by my side. During the last two weeks you were here, I tried to do everything I thought possible to care for you and comfort you. Making the decision to let you go, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I question myself so often and wonder if I could have done more.

This has been a difficult year, and all I’ve been able to do is either bottle up my pain from losing you or write. No one understands what this feels like. People look at me like I’m crazy when I say that you were my child or I wear part of you in my necklace. Everyone assumes that “it’s just a dog” and I’m not really hurting. Their opinions aren’t relevant though and I could not be bothered knowing I had the best four-legged child on this earth.

The Dog Hair

The dog is gone. We miss him. When the doorbell rings, no one barks. When we come home late, there is no one waiting for us. We still find his white hairs here and there around the house and on our clothes. We pick them up. We should throw them away. But they are all that we have left of him. We don’t throw them away. We have a wild hope – if only we collect enough of them, we will be able to put the dog back together again.

– Lydia Davis

I would write for an eternity and go on about how wonderful you were, but unless someone had the opportunity to know you, no amount of words or effort could begin to describe you. Nothing I say or do will make up for the compassionate, loving, affectionate, and kind dog you were. You simply were the best!

I’m not okay since losing you, and I know that a part of me never will be. I struggle with the silence, the lack of routine since you left. Coming home without you to greet me feels empty. I feel like I’m not myself without you here.

I miss you. I miss you more than you could ever know, Petie. I hope that you miss me.

I hope you’re chewing on the tastiest treat or chasing all the rabbits your heart desires! I’ll continue to talk about you, laugh to myself at the memory of you watching TV; then trying to attack the elephant or lion like they were right in front of you. I’ll continue to cry and wish everyday that you were by my side.
For now, I’ll remember the years I was privileged enough to be your Mom. I’ll look forward to the day when I can hug you, play fetch with you, and wake up in the morning with you beside me.


I love you, Petie.
06/02/2022