I know this has no relevance to this place, but I needed to vent off to the universe a bit.. It was just over 14 years ago, I decided to move back home with my parents in order to finish school. One day my mom came home and said she decided to buy a dog to keep her company during the day when she was alone. I strongly opposed the idea, foremost it was a lot of work for her to handle, secondly it was an ankle biter and I really can’t stand those, and lastly, because I knew the day would come. Well, the dog was already paid for, and it was her house so that conversation ended rather quickly. Several months later she arrived, it was a quarter the size of the cat, white face that looked like it was smashed in an accident. It had big goggley eyes taking up half the face, brown floppy ears, a white little body with a brown stripe around the waist, and a poof that passed for a tail. I knew then and there we weren’t going to get along, but she knew otherwise. From almost the moment she arrived, I wanted nothing to do with her, yet she would follow me around everywhere always walking a bit too fast on her feet and constantly ended up knocking into me. I’d be on the couch watching TV and she’d be bringing me her toys and squeaking at me to throw them. I’d be doing homework and she would be hopping on me trying to get my attention. Eventually I gave up trying to ignore her, and thought might as well start taking her for walks since I could use the exercise. She loved going out for walks, it eventually became a routine. I’d get home from school and she’d first hop on me until I picked her up and pet her, then she would run next to the door for me to take her out. Over the next few years I started to teach her tricks. The usual sit, give the paw, roll over, and as time went on the tricks got better, teaching her to beg by standing up and putting her paws together, dancing around in a circle, barking on command, and then I start to teach her to “speak”.. stuff like “raw raw raw”, and “Aroooowww”, several different barks and growls, which she then began to use herself to ask for food, treats or attention. Now when she wanted food, she’d walk up to you and go “mah mah mah” repeatedly, for treats it was “rah rah”. Without me realizing it, over time she became my best friend. All my “friends” slowly got married off, by this time I was already living on my own again, and I saw less and less of my “friends”. It’s understandable, eventually you stop relating to them, they’re all talking about stainless steel appliances, kid’s birthdays and baptisms, diapers and what have you, so I ended up seeing them a lot less and just happened to go by my parents place more often. A house gets really lonely when you’re the only one in it day after day. My parents house happened to be close to my last few jobs, so I always made it a habit to go there for lunch. I’d come at lunch take her for a quick walk, then eat my lunch and when I went to my coffee before leaving she would already start the “raw raw raw”. She knew that it would be time to do tricks for rewards. I’d take half a “pupperoni” and cut into small pieces, 1 for each trick, and then there would be 2 cookies I’d give her after the tricks. It had to be 2 cookies if I only gave her 1 then she would sit there and complain until she got the second one. When I felt blue or lonely I’d steal her and take her home with me for a couple days. She always knew what to do to make me feel better, and she loved going out in the early mornings for walks on the beach and trying to chase the ducks. As she got older she became much more relaxed, she’d still do all her tricks, but now when I came over she would do her little “ass dance” until I picked her up. Then she would cuddle her head under my neck as I pet and scratched her, in the evenings she’d sit on the couch with me and I’d talk to her while petting or brushing her. She always knew how I felt, if I was depressed, she was stuck to me like glue. She would be the one who would cheer me up when things were going bad. The problem is, that last night she died. I knew this day would come and I dreaded it the first time I saw her. Over the last 13 years of her life, she was there for me, my “friends” send me letters to announce births, parties, and baptisms, never asking me how I’m doing. I never even see them anymore. Right now more than ever I want to hold her while she presses her head under my neck like she always does, I need her to cheer me up, but I know that never going to happen again.