I never thought that saying goodbye to a family pet could be so heart breaking. My wonderful little dog, Broedie, passed away last night at 15 years old. He was one of the best dogs in the world - the best, if I have anything to say about it - and I consider myself and my family so lucky to have had the privilege of being Broedie's family for the past 15 years.
When we went to pick out a dog at the breeder's, our aim was to find a female dog and name her Hannah. We had one picked out, but it was Broedie who decided that no, we would not be taking Hannah. We wanted him and he was determined to make that known. He took hold of the towel we brought for Hannah with all of our scents on it and attached himself to us. That was it; he was ours.
He was so easy to train, was never yappy, and was always there to make me smile and laugh. When he was a baby, he was so small that going down the stairs was a daunting task for him, so he stood at the top of them and barked until we rescued him from the top. As he got older and going down stairs proved to be too difficult on his little body, he would start with a sneeze that would again escalate into a bark if we weren't moving fast enough to come and assist him.
I loved that little guy more than I thought it was possible to love a dog. I took every opportunity I had to kiss his head and cuddle him up, so much so that he probably got tired of it after a while. Grandma and Grandpa Bella had custody of Broedie during the week, while we got him on the weekends, so that he was never left alone for long periods of time. He was the most loved dog ever. He ruled the roost, so to speak, and we all catered to his needs. He was such a good boy that it just seemed natural. Even my seven year old self's relentless cuddles and fussing didn't deter him. His love was unconditional, as was mine for him.
He had his blanket - his girlfriend, as we dubbed it - that he loved to play with, and he and I spent countless hours playing tug of war and just "fighting" in general with it. Whenever he came home from my grandparents', he was in a fighting mood. I would come up the stairs and his little body would start to shake and his tail would wag as he crouched down in attacking position. I loved to cover him with his blanket and watch him try to get out, lifting up his blanket just a little so that his tiny, sniffling nose would peak out. My favourite thing to do was go up to him really slowly and act like I was going to grab him so that he would bark and jump around like crazy.
If Broedie happened to get really excited and try to take a bite, any connection he made was followed by his immediately slacked jaw and lick to the hand. I loved it. I always made sure to give his back a good scratch whenever I saw him because, aside from his belly, that was his favourite place to be scratched, and he rewarded me with a kiss every time (and then I had to reward him - for what, I don't know - with a treat).
Treats - or t-r-e-a-t's - were his favourite thing. We had to spell it out while he could still hear, because saying it meant that he HAD to get one. He wouldn't leave us alone until he did. Actually, all he had to do was look at me with those big brown eyes and he would get whatever he wanted.
Whenever I felt down or sad, he could always lift my spirits. His contentment - shown through little sighs or tiny licks of his lips - made me content. Even as his health got worse over time, he was always there to make me laugh or smile. He was a trooper right until the very end, still trying to play and act like himself. Not only was he the cutest little puppy in the world, he was also the best. We really lucked out that Broedie wanted us to be his family.
Losing him has been one of the hardest things that I've had to experience, though his passing was very peaceful and he just went to sleep. Grandpa and Momma Bella and I were there with him as the vet administered the drug, and I know that he knew he was really loved. He will live in our hearts forever and I will never forget him or what a fantastic, loveable, wonderful little "brother" he was.
I'll love you forever, Bubby. Sleep tight, sweetheart.
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