My cousin called me after Dollar passed and said, “you have
to be strong and remember how Dollar helped you through your brother’s passing
and how he saved you when you were in the pits of depression; thus, you can’t
undo the good work he did- you have to be strong in his memory.” I think that
was the fear all of my family had, that being bipolar I would have an episode-
but this time as I said good bye to my dearest friend, I have God and He’s
showing me that I can have peace in the tempest. Sure, I am sad and hurting-
but I also have those wonderful memories my little wolf gave me. I’ve been avoiding
calls and messages because I don’t want to talk about what happened during his
last hours, I don’t want to relive his final days and I don’t want to hear about
getting another dog because I still haven’t received his ashes and right now
replacing him is just as painful as having lost him…
Dollar was a very special dog, as he got older and his coat
changed colors on his back when looking down, he had two patches of lighter fur
that reminded me of angel wings. He must
have gotten his wings from all the service he did here on earth. For years, once a month he would bring great
happiness to the elderly women of Saint Francis Senior Home. I would take him, and he would walk around
visiting forty plus women – who would shower him with treats and caresses. I stopped going for a few months and when I returned,
they were like, “why hasn’t your dog been around?” They were so upset that
Dollar hadn’t been visiting and not so much by the fact that I had missed attendance
too.
When my brother passed mom used to work at night and the
house would be empty only Dollar and dad at home. My dad called him his loyal companion and
often expressed, “If I didn’t have this little dog to keep me company, I would
get lonely.” At my dad’s feet my little
wolf would remain silently helping dad get through the loss of his son. And though my parents swore that they would
never walk my dog, every day around the neighborhood the three would take treks
growing ever so famous around the neighborhood. Especially with the children
from the elementary school since on a daily basis mom and Dollar picked up my
nephew. When I would take him on walks, I
constantly heard people greeting Dollar by name and mom would explain that they
had met him at the school. Even on Halloween night a neighbor would wait for
him with doggy treats knowing Dollar would come in costume as we took my
nephew trick-or-treating.
I used to joke with my family that Dollar was the first
grandchild. Before my nephew was born
when family came over, they would give my dad such a hard time because Dollar’s
tags had our last name. Most of the elders
in my family had worked in farms and were unaccustomed to dogs having such
liberties as Dollar did, so they would give my dad a hard time… My mom on the
other hand spoiled my little mutt and when I wasn’t home, she was the one that
he would follow. Now she finds herself
missing his little body as she cooks.
Between tears my sister said, “I didn’t know it would hurt
this much. I didn’t know one could hurt
so much over an animal.” My mind still forgets
he’s gone, I hear him throughout the house - when I open the front door I forget
that he’s not waiting for me behind it… BUT, I know he’s at peace and that I
can't undo the work he came on earth to do; thus, I must go on and try to
heal. Am afraid of the day I get his
ashes, but I know God will give me the strength as He has all along.
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