This is hard to write, as it’s my first time seeing it in black and white letters. My little creature of 15 years crossed the rainbow bridge. There’s a lump in my throat, a tear on my cheek, and my heart aches.
Here are bits of our lives together:
I was an 11 year-old little girl when I got Peewee (full story on that here). If I think about what a child of that age knows, it’s not a whole lot. Yet here I was with a whole life in my arms and my mom teaching me how to care for my first dog.
Most of the people he met over the last five years knew him as an “older” dog that liked to sleep a lot. That’s not how I remember him. He was a vibrant little puppy with energy for days on end! He was rough around the edges, fast on his feet, and knew how to fend for himself.
There were many days I would come home from middle school in a panic that my dog had been lost. He would have me screaming his name around the neighborhood and my mom driving the car around only to find him hanging out with other dogs in the neighborhood with no care in the world. He was happy, I was happy.
At some point I learned how to drive and quickly after that, I moved away for college. My mom told me that Peewee was my dog and that I was to take him with me. Off we went to San Antonio on our first solo adventure. He drove on my lap and looked out the window from there on out. He waited up for me on late nights with friends, and I made sure to give him his last walk no matter how late it was. He made friends with my friends and was loved everywhere he went.
San Antonio didn’t work out the way I thought it would, so I moved to Richardson (a Dallas burb) to finish my undergraduate degree. I was twenty years-old moving to a city in the middle of winter where I knew no one. The early days in Richardson were challenging and more lonely than I had ever experienced in my young life, but all was well with Peewee by my side. It was my first time living alone and I was uneasy. Peewee kept me extra warm that winter and did the best watch-dog work I had ever seen him do. He made me feel safe.
Before I knew it I had graduated and got my first job, but if I’m being honest, it was a place holder until I was accepted into graduate school. Me and Peewee moved to Dallas and I found myself an apartment 10 minutes away from work. This was one of the best years we had! I was able to come home for lunch every day to take him for a walk, give him a few kisses, give him a bite of my lunch on a good day, and then head back to work only to see him a few hours later. His days were so full of love and he was so full of life!
Some time later I got the news that I’d been accepted into a graduate program. We moved to Kingsville without any hesitation. Just like that, our fun year was over. I spent most evenings studying in a frigid study room and there Peewee was on my lap every single night. During this stressful time he remained a priority in my life, even if that meant running home between classes to let him out for a walk. Grad school was difficult and Peewee put a smile on my face.
We moved back to Dallas after graduation and I got my dream job. Things were good for us for a while until he was diagnosed with cancer. I thought the worst, but his oncologist reassured me that things could get better and they did. Dr. Roof started him on medication and added years to his life. He went to the park frequently, rolled his heavy little body on grass, and ate as many bugs as he could find.
As things go sometimes, relationships end including the one I had been in. Me and Peewee were on our own again. It was an opportunity for growth, but I was having a hard time. Working a full-time job, making it to the gym, keeping up with friendships, and being a good dog mom all at once was hard. Me and Peewee hadn’t been on our own for two weeks before I asked my ex-boyfriend to help me take care of Peewee.
The last fifteen months of Peewee’s life were split between two homes. It sounds strange, but we had a routine. Five days per week I would pick Peewee up from my ex’s after work then drop him off the following morning before my drive to work. I was judged, my ex-boyfriend was judged, and we were both asked by friends and family why we kept sharing Peewee. Trust me, there were days me and my ex had arguments over care-taking and days that I never wanted to drop Peewee off again. But then I would see Peewee’s sweet face and hold his warm little body, and I knew there was no way I could leave him at home for 50+ hours per week. Differences were set aside for Peewee’s well being, and if I had to do it all over it again I would.
My heart is weak and my voice breaks talking about my kind little animal, but I rest easy knowing I gave him all that I possibly could.
XO, Vivian