Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Letter to My Dog (Repost)

From 30 Days

To Max:

Sit! ... Stay!......I said “SIT!”, no, no...don’t lick my hand......stupid dog.

Listen Max, I realize that you aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed. I mean ever since we rescued you as a puppy found abandoned in the park, we knew this wasn’t going to be easy. As I am sure you are aware by now, it has been much harder than we thought.

Much like when Forrest Gump uttered, ‘Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.”. It appears that we got you.

After numerous gnawed on pieces of furniture, countless shoes destroyed and enough holes in the back yard to make it look like a used minefield, we still have you. Damnit, you do tend to grow on people.

Which is why I have a favor to ask of you buddy. Don’t make me have to put you down. When your time comes, just pass away in your sleep. Don’t get hit by a car, or ingest rat poison or break your back by jumping out of a moving vehicle.

I couldn’t do that. After spending every morning over the past year, playing fetch with you, it is something that I just can’t contemplate. It is evident that you literally ‘live’ for those 20 minutes each morning where you get to run as fast as you can across an open field in order to catch up to that tennis ball. Then, without hesitation, you bring it back to me. The look in your face is absolute and utter joy every time you do it. For those that say dogs can’t smile, they obviously have never seen you play fetch. It is just you and me and that tennis ball, nothing else matters.

In your persistent, stubborn, duface sort of way, you have made me appreciate that time as well. It is during those ball throwing sessions that you have taught me that there are more important things in life than the chaos that constantly surrounds the human world.

As long as you want to keep bringing that ball back to me, I’ll keep throwing it.

However, I can’t snuff out that sort of joy. I just don’t have it in my. So do me this favor good buddy. Either outlive me, or pass away in your sleep while you dream of chasing a rabbit through a thicket.

See ya tomorrow at 6:30am, with the tennis ball, in the park. Bring your game face.

Your Owner,


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