Buster . . . It’s been a week since you left us, and I still think about you every single minute of every single day.
I miss you so much, bud.
What I wouldn’t give for just one more day – hell, one more hour with you to spoil you rotten, get my fill of Buster Kisses, and let you drift off to sleep for the last time, spooned next to me in bed, as I rubbed your back and nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your fur.
I think the thing that haunts me more than anything is the fact that I wasn’t lying there next to you when you left us. Did you try to get up and let Mommy know that you needed her? I know you must have been scared, and it absolutely tears me apart inside that I wasn’t there, stroking your fur, telling you that it was going to be okay, and that you could let go, and that Mommy and Daddy loved you so very much, but didn’t want you to be in pain. I think we both struggle with this and can only hope that you didn’t suffer. Even as I type this, I’m crying again. But I know you wouldn’t want me to cry. If you were here, you’d be nuzzling in closer, licking away my tears, and wiggling your butt to try to cheer me up and let me know in your own special language that it is going to be okay.
You’d be happy to know that every day that goes by, I cry a little bit less, and laugh a little bit more. The memories dancing through my head of you are starting to bring little smiles to my face instead of tears. I’m starting to remember your perked up “puppy ear” moments, and all of the little happy “expressions” that you’d throw my way when you were happy to see me. You could speak volumes with those eyes and ears, bud. These memories make me smile for a moment, followed by a brief wave of sadness that quickly passes when I realize that they are forever in the past.
We brought you home today for the final time, in a beautifully engraved wooden box, and you’ve got a special place now that I think you’d like. You’ll be able to watch over Mommy & Daddy from your new place in our home.
Dad made me a necklace with your dog tags, and I’ve barely taken them off in the last week. The length is just perfect so that your tags hang just over my heart, and when I wrap my fingers around them and bring them to my lips to give them a little peck, if I inhale deeply enough, I can still faintly catch your scent on them. I find the pressure of your tags on my skin comforting – a gentle reminder that you’ll always have a special place in my heart, and a little “Buster Snuggle” every time I move and their weight shifts slightly.
Your brother seems to be doing okay, although he clearly misses you too. Dad and I realized quickly that we shouldn’t use your name in front of Jake because it makes him sad. We’ve been taking him on lots of walks and little day trips to help keep him occupied, and it seems to be working. He even got to come hang out at the Driveway last week! I think the evenings are the hardest for all of us though, because this was our “family time” to relax and de-stress on the couch together.
Yesterday was July the 8th – the birthday that you celebrated w/ Dad. I think it was really hard on him, and he didn’t really want to do anything to celebrate his birthday despite my “nagging” him. He said it just didn’t feel like a birthday. I get it. It was a nice day outside though, so we spent time together outside – doing some bike maintenance & taking Jakie to PetSmart to get a new football.
There have been some high points this past week, too! I won my first Driveway Series Race of the year on Thursday night, wearing your dog tags close to my heart. Jake was there to help celebrate, and it felt so good to smile and laugh, and share some good memories of you with friends. Then I found out yesterday that I got a guest ride spot at a really big race later in the year! It’s one that I’ve had on my calendar for months, but that I hadn’t been able to find a guest ride spot for yet, so that news brought a huge grin to my face. I missed celebrating w/ you with a “puppy dance”, and got a little nostalgic when I realized that this will be the first road trip that we’ll be taking without you, but no tears this time. . .so like I said. . it’s getting a little easier every day.
Miss ya bunches, bud.
