This is not something that I thought I would ever write. Not that something like this would never happen…I knew it would…someday. But I don’t typically write things here that are about the more personal parts of my life. Mostly because I think you (my dear readers) have your own shit that you’re dealing with and don’t come to the internet to read about other people’s crap. At least not food blogs. There’s places like CNN, Drudge Report or any other bazillion or so news sites out there to scare, bore or sadden you.
But this time is different.
I lost my best friend today and words cannot describe how I feel. (I’m hoping that by writing this it will help me…to some degree.)
Rizzo came into our lives 15 years ago. Against all my protests of timing, Craig went to the Pasadena shelter and fell in love. Not like the long painful process of attempting to woo me (3 years and 3000 miles) but a 10 minute drive from his office, 15 minutes inside those bougainvillea covered gates and he.was.toast. I got the call that I had to come the next day and we had to take her home.
After several sleepless nights, for both Rizzo and myself, along with a bunch of grad school mid-terms to be taken in the evenings after 8+ hours of work she won me over too. I was head over heals in love with her.
While she was a friend to few, she was our loyal protector and confidant. With Craig out of town, she protected me with everything she had (which was a huge growl and a pretty good set of sharp teeth). When Craig was home with her, she was daddy’s girl and she had him wrapped around her dew claw. C-O-M-P-L-E-T-E-L-Y. I would have to settle for the alpha dog position in our little pack, but that was fine with me.
Over the years we’ve had our share of medical ups and downs. But with her bionic back legs, she walked tall and proud.
She was the closest I’ve come to motherhood. Most days dealing with both her and Craig was like dealing with 4 year old twins that I could only differentiate because one of them had a big fluffy curly tail (I’ll let you figure out which one that was). Getting under my feet when I’d remove some long cooked piece of meat from the oven and having to elbow my way back into the pan as the two of them shared as much of it as they could while I looked away.
After returning this week from a beautiful trip to Europe we came home to find her ill. My poor in-laws had many a visit to the emergency vet with her trying to find out what was wrong. I won’t get into that here, just suffice it to say we saw her quickly becoming a shell of her normal self. No longer eating, sporadically drinking and having a difficult time moving around we knew it was time to let her go and to say goodbye.
We stroked her fur and I napped with her. We spent time with her in her favorite places in the yard and tried to hold it together. (Come to find out, I’m not very skilled at doing that.)
So with this I say a loving goodbye to my best friend.
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