It’s too quiet.  It’s too quiet!!  The walls echo emptiness and absence, and it’s tearing my heart.

In April of 2010 I wanted a friend.  I wanted one who would keep watch over my safety, driving off strangers and those who meant me harm.  I wanted a friend who would stand tall and let none pass that meant me harm.  And so, I went to a friend of a friend who found those who no one wanted with hope she could find me such a friend.  As we spoke this maniacal blur of black and grey came ripping into the yard, eyes wide, teeth sharp and white, claws digging up tufts of grass as she made corners and then straight towards me with an unknown intention.

“Watch that one,” the lady said.  “She came to me as one too wild to be homed.”

And then this wild child launched herself into my lap and laid her head on my chest, looking right through me with soft brown eyes full of mischief and hope.  “Well, looks like you have been claimed,” the lady said.

“What’s her name,” I asked.

“Grace,” the lady said.  “I found her just before she was to be put down at the pound.  I told you she is said to be too wild.”

“Yeah, she looks vicious,” I laughed.  Yet, claimed I was, a man no one wanted by a dog no one wanted, and both of us thought by some better off with a bullet.  And so, Grace came home with me, this wild one that would protect my home and safety, just as I wanted.  Just as I thought I needed.

As time went, she proved to me how wrong I was.  Grace was not a guard dog.  She didn’t stand boldly at the gate, the fear of strangers everywhere.  In fact, one of the neighbors referred to her as a slut – taking love from anyone.  I didn’t know if I was offended by that or not, but she was right.

As time passed Grace helped me deal with my anger, my desire for violence, my desires to just get in my car and drive away from it all.  Grace taught me discipline and responsibility. 

Most importantly, Grace taught me love and loyalty.  I did not receive the guard dog I wanted that day, but was instead blessed with the best friend I deeply needed.

Last summer Grace began to limp.  She was coming on 14 years old, so arthritis is expected.  But, the arthritis medications didn’t help.  Still, she lived a happy dog, and though she couldn’t do zoomies anymore, she loved to be with me outside or between my feet while I sat in my chair.   There was nothing wrong with her tail, that’s for sure, and she was sure to tell anyone who could reach the box that she was ready for a bone no matter how bad her leg hurt.  Two weeks ago I found out that she actually had cancer as her pain was getting worse and worse.

Still, my happy girl was glad to see me, quick to cuddle, quick to make me feel wanted, needed, loved.

On Thursday I overcame my selfishness and said goodbye to my sweet friend of 13.5 years.  She laid her head in my hands one last time, a slight look of confusion on a face wet with my tears as the vet helped her move on.  I held her to the end, my sweet friend, and experienced pain I just didn’t know a man could as I drove home.  Alone.

Thank you, my sweet girl.  You will forever be the better part of my heart.