From the very beginning, when he was just a tiny puppy, there was never any doubt that Junior was special. Since we have tended to take in 4-legged orphans over the years, Junior was never an "only dog." But, through the sheer force of his personality, he endeared himself to us until he held an extraordinarily special place in our hearts. I often told him so, at least once a day, I told him that he was so precious and dear to us.
It was one of his self-appointed duties to look after me and keep track of my where-abouts at all times. He took this duty seriously and accomplished it with an unfailing faithfulness and intense vigilance. Though he may, at times, have appeared to be in the middle of a contented nap, every few minutes or so, he'd lift his head and scan the room. If I was still there, his head would drop back down to his bed and the nap would continue. If I wasn't (and I often tip-toed out of the room, trying not to disturb him), he'd immediately get up and track me down.
When he found me, he'd give me that sad look I knew so well: "Why did you leave me? I wanted to be with you!" But, this was only a brief scolding, one that was always quickly followed by a happy, enthusiastic wag of the tail: "It's okay, I forgive you. We're together now, that's all that matters."
When I left to go on an errand or when I worked in the yard on the days it was too hot for him to stay outside with me, he'd wait faithfully by the back door, staring forlornly through the glass. When I came back, "the look" was in full force: "Why did you leave me? I wanted to be with you!" But, then: "It's okay, I forgive you. We're together now, that's all that matters."
He kept track of me for 16 years, living to just 4 days shy of his 16th birthday - a long life for a large dog. But a hundred years wouldn't have been long enough for the people who love him. His heart finally failed him. But, neither he nor his heart ever failed us.
There are no words to describe how much I miss my constant companion. I miss him every minute of the day. This is my hope, the soothing balm that, at least, attempts to act as a buffer to the ache in my heart:
One day, Junior and I will be together again. When I arrive, he'll be waiting for me: "Why did you let me leave without you? I wanted to be with you!"
But, then: "It's okay, I forgive you. We're together now, that's all that matters." |
