“Death ends a life, not a relationship.” Jack Lemmon
One year ago today, I woke up and knew one of the hardest days in my life was about to happen. Looking at my dog Kobe and seeing him unable to lay down, yet barely able to stand, I knew I was going to have to say goodbye.
Since then, I am different. I can’t really tell you how, but I know I am. A piece of my heart went with Kobe and it will stay with him.
Time has flown by this last year, but he pops in my head so often. That day (and many days after), people reached out and comforted me during one of the toughest times of my life. I always think about the strangeness of that day, wanting to both reach out yet to also be alone. I could read email or tweets from people who showed they cared yet could shut it down when I needed distance. I needed what I needed in those moments.
When I first started teaching, I moved to the small town of Maple Creek, Saskatchewan. Although I was excited for my first, full-time teaching job, the thought of moving to a small town, away from family and away from my friends, was tough. What made it so much easier for me, was that every day, I would come home to a wagging tail and a lot of unconditional love from Kobe. If people could love the way that dogs do, the world would be so much better.
Those years living in small towns and teaching were really lonely, and sometimes, I wonder about my own personal well-being if I did not decide to have Kobe (and eventually Shaq) in my life. They felt like life savers and meant so much to me.
Since Kobe has passed, I decided to open my home to another dog from the Edmonton Humane Society. It was a hard notion for me at first, but someone on Twitter had said to me, “You love animals so much that you need to open your home to another one.” It stuck out to me and when I was ready, I went back to the SPCA and opened myself to a new friend:
Unlike some people who have experienced the loss of an animal, I did not believe, even for a moment, that I would never get another. I did know full well that there were just too many animals out there in need of homes for me to take what I have always regarded as the self-indulgent road of saying the heartbreak of the loss of an animal was too much ever to want to go through with it again. To me, such an admission brought up the far more powerful admission that all the wonderful times you had with your animal were not worth the unhappiness at the end.” ~ Cleveland Amory
Although Odom (my new dog) and Shaq are awesome, each dog has their own personality and it is amazing how you connect in such different ways. Sometimes I look at Shaq and see how she has mellowed as she has become older, and I see the influence of Kobe on her. Then I look at Odom and will let out this distinct “sigh” that was a signature of Kobe. It seems like Kobe is saying hi to me through them; it always makes me smile.
Both my dogs are amazing and they are like my kids, but Kobe was my best friend.
Some days when I think of Kobe, I still cry. The weird thing is, that I appreciate those moments that I have because it shows me how much I loved him and how he really impacted my life. So many great things happened those years that I know I was blessed to have him find me.
There were so many people that reached out to me during that time last year, and checked up on me from all over the world, and for that, I will always be grateful. I struggled so much on the day that I took him to the vet but the one thing that was said to me that really stuck out was the following:
Dogs spend all of their lives being there for you. At the time when they need it most, you need to be there for them.
I think about Kobe everyday and I know he was so much more than “just a dog”. He was a best friend and I miss him every single day.
Love you buddy 🙂
