I just spent about half an hour sitting outside, crying with my dog, Harry. I’m getting married on Friday and he’s staying. I found him the day before Thanksgiving, as a stray. He was walking around across the street and my grandma woke me up on her front couch and pointed out through the white curtains at a little dog. He was mangey and small, with a little thin red collar on but it didn’t look like he’d been clean for a while, although his hair was pretty short besides the mange. My small cousin and I went outside and I walked across the street. I proceeded slowly, bent low because he started walking fast and looked intimidated. It looked like he might hurry away, but he stopped walking and I think he bent his head low after a minute because he knew I was probably faster. He was just a little, thin thing. He’s a yorkie mix and all shades of grey. He is the sweetest dog you will know. For the past year and a half, I’ve been busy and it’s hard to go outside because our last dog was my best friend that I went through adolesence with, and he passed away two Augusts ago. It hurts to go outside. I feel so bad that I haven’t gone outside to be with Harry anywhere as many times as I should have been, because I lost my good friend, but he lost his buddy. Tonight I went out and he layed in his doghouse on top of his fluffy sleeping bag. I talked and he watched me intently, almost as if he knew what I was saying. I promised that when I come to mom and dad’s, I will give him attention. He has always been here for me. He’s a funny little bolt of lightening when he gets excited. When we go to get the leash and put it on him, he puts on the breaks because he thinks that means it’s time to go get groomed, which he does not like one bit. Today we went to get the mail and on the way home, he wanted to walk back on the other side of the culdesac. There’s a house halfway down the block back that he smelled in their grass and he just kept smelling and walking around. You ca say what you want, but I could see in him that he smelled Charlie. He just sat down and layed right there in the grass and looked content. He had found a piece of his old friend. He just kept looking at me and didn’t want to get up. After a minute he stood up and I said, “Okay?” and we proceeded down back to our house. I’m really going to miss him when I don’t get to come home to him rolling in the grass and running awkwardly around the pillars that hold up the back ceiling. He’s my good ‘ol friend and I don’t want to let him go. I know I can come back and see him whenever I want because we live so close, but it’s not the same. Yeah it’ll have to do. I can’t help but cry. I’ve never been without him on any day that I came home.
This home has been mine since I was born and I don’t know how I will cope not living here. It will be interesting to see how I make my own home somewhere else. With Justin :) my Love. I hope that with him and with the pieces I know will help me feel like it’s home, it really will be ours. I don’t know what that feels like, but I am going to try with what I have and I will never stop. We’re already getting gifts and slowly, our home is coming piece by piece. We’ve got each other, the house, our car, and now we have oven-safe tupperware with popped bubblewrap. What more could I need? I love Justin with all my heart. I’m so lucky. He’s really the love of my life.