A letter to the dog who changed my life on my first Christmas without you...
I remember it clearly, the day I met you. I was an excited 8 year old, gleefully surrounded by tiny Labrador puppies. This was a dream come true for an animal lover like me, and I could hardly believe it was happening. I could never have imagined how much you would mean to me, or how you would shape my life for 13 years.
I look back at the pictures now: you were a tiny puppy, I was a tiny girl. We were partners in crime from the moment we met. We would have races down Grannie’s garden (you would always win) and we’d hide in the den I made under a tree. We’d snuggle up on the kitchen floor under your blankets; we’d hang out and watch TV together. I’ll never forget the way you used to look at me, or the way I used to look at you. You were always by my side. You were sprawled awkwardly next to my chair during meal times, and under my feet in the living room. You were, and are, my best friend.
I can never express how much joy it brought me to deliver your Christmas presents to you. That wagging tail and wiggling bum would light up my eyes instantly. I would spend weeks picking out the perfect toys for you, your favourite of which was a sheep. I never dreamed I would be sleeping with that sheep in my arms a year later. Perhaps if I’d known I wouldn’t have chosen a toy that jingled.
I can never put into words how I felt when you died. I’d been desperately looking for a toy to bring back from Greece – I was sad I’d missed your birthday – but none of them were good enough for my best friend. My heart broke irreversibly when I knew you’d died on the very day you were born all those years ago. I’ve felt an emptiness since you left – one I can’t quite explain. But I’m always aware of it in everything I do and I haven’t found a way to shift it yet. I’m not sure I want to.
This Christmas will be the first I can remember where I haven’t been met with your beautiful eyes and happy smile. The first Christmas of many where I can’t give you a present, and I honestly don’t know how I’ll cope.
I am so very lucky to have known you: you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me. My only source of comfort is that you knew just how much I adored you. You knew you were my everything and I knew I was yours. And one thing I can promise is that I will think of you every day for the rest of my life. And the photographs of you will be on the wall of every bedroom I ever own. Thank you for teaching me how to have adventures, how to play in muddy fields and most importantly, how to love someone with every fibre of your being.
Merry Christmas, Polly. I love you more than I can ever say.
Thanks for choosing me.
