You went by many names in your lifetime. Shadow given to you by the old woman who first claimed you (you decided shortly after to cross the neighborhood to our home and stay with us). Mean Jaguar given by my little sister who just couldn’t understand why you were so mad all the time, and Louie by my over-zealous grandmother whom could not fathom why we named you what we named you. Perhaps, some speculate, it was to jab at the preacher who was our neighbor, I however think that Lucifer was very becoming on you.
I suppose I should rejoice, after all not many people get to spend 17 years of their life with an animal. I did. In those 17 years, you were quite the tyrant. Any dog within miles quaked at the thought of you. No matter how big the neighbor’s Golden Retriever was and no matter how many times he growled at you, you came in claws blazing-and we were scorned for it. When you weren’t wrecking havoc on the canine population, you were more of a friend than I had ever known. You followed me everywhere, and once I got through the prodding stage that you reacted to by jumping at me, we were thick as thieves. I most fondly remember you being there on those long nights. When my parents would fight into the early hours of the morning and the only place I could go would be the front porch. Every single time: there you were. Rubbing against my leg, begging for a head rub only if I did it just right. Ever tear soothed by your fur that even when you were old never once grayed. Luckily for the both of us, my parents separated. I remember imagining not being with you. Dad agreed. I could have you and your sister Penelope.
Our first few months at Redemption were long. Afraid you and she would run, we kept you on the back porch until we knew that you could be trusted. Every morning I would get up and go to the bus, and every morning you would sit with me and watch me get on the bus. Then, as soon as my time away from you was spent, you would be there as the bus dropped me off. It was wonderful; kids would remark how cool it was that you were always there...and for a long time, I believed you always would be. Unfortunately, that summer was your last. 17 amazing years you watched over me, only a year older than I was, you saw every milestone up until that point. Now the child in me wants to believe that you are not in fact with my deceased family members, but that you were found that day, by another girl who was in desperate need of your protection, and you went to live with her. But that sad adult knows that you are gone.
I remember the last day I saw you: your claws (due to the arthritis, could not retract in). Only men of steel could hold you, but I didn’t mind when you would climb into my lap. You looked so peaceful that day, laying on the front step. I scared you; your hearing had deserted you years ago, but you forgave me and insisted we sit for awhile. I do not know where you went when I finally went inside, believe me if I had known I would’ve sat for hours more. I hope that you went ot the woods, rested down, and listened to the soft breeze and slipped into the void. However way you left, I can rest easy now. I know that I will see you again. If you are wondering, I am doing great. We got Dimitri (oh how I wish you were here to bat at him and show him who rules this roost). Pom Pom would make you very proud, he stays with me always, and I am reminded of your love every day. So no matter what was said about you, you will always be the best thing about my childhood, and I can’t wait to come home to see you again. Until then, enjoy your place on the stairs, where your feet never tire and your hearing is better than even the sharpest animal.
All my love,
The Mess You Saved
