My dog has aged rapidly in the past couple of years, going from middle-aged to elderly way too fast, and the past several weeks she's gone from elderly to...whatever comes after that so I know her time is getting close to the end and it's breaking my heart just to think about it.
I thought I was tough, I wasn't a "dog person" before I met Sophie 11 years ago. Growing up in a strict religious household where dogs were only allowed to be kept as "work animals" and even then, only outside, I never really had any pets of my own. I wish I could say it was love at first sight when my wife brought home this beautiful black lab/pit bull mix, but that would be a bold lie. I thought she looked weird, had too much energy, and I tried to convince my wife to buy a doghouse, she quickly shut that down, I begrudgingly accepted the dog into my life.
Sophie's original mission was to be a sort of service dog for my autistic son, Miles, at least that's one of the arguments that was used to sell me on the idea of a dog, that never quite panned out, but she excelled at being a family dog. Her boundless energy, every time I asked her if she wanted to go outside she would peel out at top speed, sliding around corners and crashing into walls on her way out, was just perfect for the boys at their ages. Eventually the crashing into walls led to an expensive surgery and a life lesson about pet insurance, but that's another story.
She grew on me, Shardé couldn't believe her eyes when I let Sophie sleep in the bed with me while she was away, but what could I do? Sophie missed her mom.
And so it it went, little by little I went from being a person who didn't care for dogs, to someone who bawls over his keyboard while he watches his best friend fade away.
I don't know what I'm going to tell my kids, I don't know what to tell myself, I guess we'll just cry together.