We blasted techno, shared fries and stuck our heads out the window whenever traffic slowed down on that 15 hour drive to Seattle. Then we spent many months in solitude in a 400 sq ft apartment sleeping on that stiff Ikea futon and living off of Safeway’s rotisserie chicken and flavored vodka. But it was heaven. I was living authentically and you were my little adventure buddy exploring our new city. For a moment in time, everything felt right. I’ll never forget that.
I fell in love with Seattle and I think you did too. Or maybe you just loved having me all to yourself. Either way, I’d take your photo with the Space Needle at Kerry Park or at the Seattle Center every chance I got. And you always cooperated for those pics in your big puffy coat or ridiculous hat because you knew it made me happy. Dogs always seek to please and you were no exception.
I know your presence gave me a lot of courage I might not have had otherwise. You’re my once-in-a-lifetime dog and everyone we came across could see that from a mile away. You had these soulful brown eyes when you looked at me, even when I wasn’t holding those salmon-flavored treats you loved so much. I’d catch you watching me and studying my every move. Sometimes I met your gaze with a quiet tear streaming down my face knowing these moments with you couldn’t be forever.
I always worried when and how you would go. There’s a million ways I feared, but I never thought dementia would be one of them. I remember when you first started showing signs two years ago. It may have been so subtle that only a dog-obsessed mom like myself could notice. Then little by little, your spirit left as you stopped understanding commands, didn't want to wear clothes and would get anxious on walks you’d normally enjoy. You’d give me that look telling me you wanted to stay home instead of adventuring with me. My first couple walks around the city leaving you home were tough.
More months passed and the stages of dementia continued to progress. You spent hours staring at walls or spinning circles until your tired body forced you to collapse, wherever that was in the house. Now I was the one watching you and studying your every move - searching so badly for answers to what was going on in that brain of yours so I could help. I would hold you more and more as that was the only time your mind and body seemed at peace. And even in those moments, you brought me more joy than I could comprehend sinking your tired bones into my chest with your fish breath right beneath my nose. How could I ever say goodbye to that?
But your personality was gone and the light in my heart slowly dimmed watching you change like that. I thought just maybe the final goodbye would be easier knowing it was no longer you that was inside there, but it wasn't. Now that you're gone, I'll try my best to replace the hard memories of the past two years with the ten incredible years we had prior. I’ll miss you flying into bed each night rolling wildly on your back as you prepared to take half the mattress with all 11 pounds of your being. Mornings will be extra tough when I open my eyes and you're not there rubbing your wet nose on my neck with that playful growl demanding breakfast. How do I get out of bed without that?
I’ll be thinking of you every time I lay in the grass and I’ll point my face towards the sun sniffing the air as the wind rolls by. I'll dream of going to Kerry Park with you one last time to watch that sunrise together. You'll always be in my heart, my little Angel forever.
xoxoxoxoxoxo,
Erika and Sebastian
