In Memoriam

In the life of this blog, I haven't ever really talked about super personal things. Sure, I've discussed school and the writing process and the trials and tribulations of writer-hood, but never anything extremely personal. But today, I feel the need to do so. I was going to write this post a couple days ago but I wasn't ready. I think, now, I am.

On Monday, I traveled home for one of the hardest days of my life. We (my parents and I) had made the extremely tough decision to put our dog, Wiley, to sleep. My mom and I were with Wiley at the vet while they put him down and it was peaceful. But heartbreaking nonetheless. I think he was ready. He'd been sick for the last few weeks (gastric problems) and he was really unhappy and uncomfortable. He stood by the closet door where his leash was all morning. And he was calm while we drove to the vet (normally he'd be shaking like a leaf and whining the whole way).

He and I grew up together. We got Wiley after I had a rather tough year in 4th grade. My teacher wasn't exactly stellar and so my parents decided we needed something to make up for it. And a puppy seemed the right choice. He was the cutest puppy. A tiny little ball of fur with brown eyes and a short snout and black nose. He had the softest head and ears, like velvet. Even at 14 it hadn't changed. It was one of the things I thought of as we said goodbye. He'd gotten thinner and his fur was falling out in places (and his tail hair was completely gone) but his head and ears were just the same.

We were a little worried Wiley might not remember me when we first got him because I spent nearly back-to-back weeks away at sleep-away summer camp but there was nothing to worry about. He remembered me. I was his girl. And boy was he protective of me. And my mom. He'd bark and get all jealous whenever my parents hugged or my mom and I hugged. He had a strong dislike of workmen and loved to bite boy's bathing suits during pool parties. He'd chase kids around the pool in our backyard and into the pool. He didn't like going in the pool though. He'd put his feet in and drink the water (we didn't have chlorine in our pool don't worry!). But being a rather furry breed, Wiley went from looking like a rather handsome dog to a drowned rat when he got wet. He would get all mortified and run off and hide if we tried to dunk him in or give him a bath.

He was never much of a fetch dog. He'd chase things if you threw them but you'd be hard pressed to get them back. He was rather gifted at volleyball though. it was rather astounding. You could throw a ball at hi and he'd bounce it off his nose back to you. It was one of his favorite games. So was getting a rawhide stick and having you chase him to try and "get it" from him. He also loved Christmas. I don't know how he knew but on Christmas Eve he would be dancing around the living room while we put out presents and filled stockings. He loved presents. We would have to put his stocking out of reach until morning so he didn't open everything before we got up. He didn't care what was in the presents (though he did steal a toothbrush from my dad one year). He just loved to rip off the paper. And he was really good at it!

Wiley was my first and only dog so saying goodbye was a really hard thing to do. I know it was the right decision and that it was hiss time but I'm going to miss my puppy. I really have lost a member of my family and it's never going to be the same without him. I've got a nice photo of him that my dad took a few years ago (he's smiling in it...well as much as a dog can smile) sitting on my desk within reach and view. This way, even now, he greets me when I come home. He's with me in spirit and I'm trying to remember the good times. But even as I think of all the fun he and I had as I grew up, I can't help but cry. He was a good boy and he will always be loved.

R.I.P. Wiley (4/28/1998-6/13/2011)