Dear Rose,
I miss you so much already. You are the best dog EVER (tied with Stuffy, of course!). I have had you in my life for about 15 years, and I’m only 27, which means I’ve known a world with you in it for longer than I’ve known a world without you in it. I remember when we first laid eyes on you. You were a scraggly little thing, with wiry hair all over your skinny body. I loved you at first sight.
You gave new life to Stuffy, who was at least ten years old when we brought you home. I hope that I properly thanked you and gave you credit for that, because it truly was a miracle. Don’t tell Stuffy this, but we got you as a sort of preemptive replacement for Stuffy, who had received a grim prognosis from at least one vet. Yet, when you entered the scene, Stuffy had a second puppyhood, and lived for 7 more years. You saved her life!!! I didn’t know it at the time, but you would save my life one day, too.
When we met, you were a puppy and I was a teenager. I had just entered into the teen years, and was pretty messed up emotionally at times. I hit you sometimes, which I now realize was WRONG. I’m sorry for any time I physically or verbally abused you when I was young and stupid. You were a trooper with me, and were a very well-behaved puppy (despite what Mom and Dad claim about you being “impossible” to housebreak).
You helped me survive my difficult teen years by being a constant presence of support in my life. You were always there for me, even when I felt as if the world was against me. I never felt anything but love from you. You and Stuffy really both helped to shape the person that I have become. You licked my tears away whenever I had a teenage crisis (which was quite often in some years). You were always excited to see me when I came home.
Later, when I moved out, I still thought of you as “mine” even though I knew that you belong to our parents. I actually have always thought of you as a little sister who was stuck at home, even though I got to leave the nest. You were very happy there, so I was happy to know that you were at the parents’ house. I didn’t always like visiting them, but I always LOVED visiting you! I am sorry for any of the times that I should have visited you but didn’t. I’m also sorry for all of the times that I moved far away and didn’t visit often or for long enough. I hope that you enjoyed my visits as much as I did! Thanks for always being on my side. I know that you probably were on EVERYONE’s side in family fights, but it always felt as if you had my back.
The last couple of weeks were a mess for us. You went from being a content and healthy senior dog to being a dying cancer patient seemingly overnight. The day that the doctor told me that you were going to be fine, and that you just had allergies… that was the happiest day of my entire existence. I cried tears of joy for the first time in my life. You have no idea how thrilled I was that you were not dying and that you were going to be around for a while longer.
A week later (today), you died. And now I cry tears of sorrow and grief. We had you killed. And I feel very badly about it. I don’t know if you were actually ready to die. Everyone is trying to make themselves feel better about the decision by saying things like “Rose isn’t in pain anymore” and “Rose is with Stuffy now”. But I don’t know about that. I honestly believe that you weren’t ready to die yet and that I should have ran out of that room with you in my arms. Somehow, I didn’t do it. It wasn’t my decision. I know that if I had done it, you probably still would have died within a day or two anyway and probably endured more pain.
But there is another possibility that is bothering me. Maybe your tongue was the real problem, and maybe it wasn’t too late to save you if we had only gotten a biopsy of the tongue and figured that out. Maybe your breathing, lack of appetite, and every other problem was all due to whatever was wrong with your tongue. And maybe if we had just gotten that fixed you could have been healthy and happy again until you died of old age in a couple of years, happily in your sleep.
But since this is all speculation and since you are in fact dead at this time, I cannot keep on wondering “what if” about your death. You are dead. You are gone. You are no longer going to be in the parents’ house barking incessantly for a treat every time I walk in the door. You will never lick my face, hands, or feet again. You will never clean Dot’s eyes, or run around with Diva and Jacques, or bark when Joel and I pretend to sneeze in your face. None of those things will ever happen again.
And that saddens me to no end.
Are you in a better place now? Are you running around with all the other dead dogs in Heaven? I know that you’re not in pain anymore, but is that because you’re dead and therefore no longer exist, or is it because your spirit has moved on to a better place? I hope that it’s the latter. In case it isn’t, and your existence is completely over… I promise you this: I will live the rest of my life to the best of my ability. I will do this in your honor, since you no longer get to live.
Your life was amazing. You accomplished so much, including making my life amazing. I am so proud of you. I know that even if your existence is over, your journey was not without a purpose. Rose, your purpose was to help others. Your purpose was to bring joy to us all. And you fulfilled your destiny here on earth.
Wherever you are now (please let you be somewhere!), I hope that you are happy. I hope that you have no regrets. I hope that you can forgive me for letting you die. And I hope that you know how much I love you.
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