Lippy Stuff

Today we said goodbye to you. It has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do. So much harder than there are words to express. You've been a part of my life since I moved out on my own, and you are so intertwined into my life and who I am that it's hard to picture myself without you. As Matt pointed out, he's never know me without you. You have been my ever-present shadow, and I have loved you every day.

The truth is, you left us a long time ago. And when I was crying today, deeply mourning the loss of you, I realized I was grieving the you we hadn't seen in a very long time. None of this was your fault; you were just born this way. And in spite of everything that lead us to this day, you were still the best dog I could have ever imagined having in my life.

I remember holding you as a puppy in your kennel at the Town Lake Animal Shelter each day, hoping you would get to know me while I waited that long and tortuous week until I could take you home. I remember how scared you were of me and everything when I first brought you home, how long it took you to open up to me. I was so afraid you'd never open up to me. And then one day I threw a stick for you and you played with me and I knew we would be just fine. You always loved sticks...the bigger the better.

I remember the first time you caught a squirrel. I was terrified your "dog instincts" would kick in and you'd rip it to shreds. Instead you played with it just like you played with your stuffed animals, tossing it straight up into the air and watching it hit the ground. Repeat. I'm sure it was the worst day of that squirrel's life, but you certainly had fun.

I remember teaching you how to swim, and I remember that once you learned there was no keeping you out of any puddle you could find. I also remember all those orange training floaties you hid along the bank of Red Bud Isle, in just the spot I couldn't retrieve them without getting in the water. Punk.

I remember your knack for injuring yourself right before I would leave to go out of town. You put me through hell worrying about you. But that's what we do for those we love. We worry and worry and walk through fire for them.

I remember how much you LOVED to run. And run. And run. Running was who you were. It was one of the things that defined you. And when you weren't able to run anymore it broke my heart. You were a dog who lived her life fully. You put your whole life and joy and energy into everything you did, and I loved watching you be happy. It was when I saw that you could no longer do the things you loved that I realized I had to let you go.

My goal in caring for you was always to give you the best life I could. You depended on me 100% and that is the least I could give you. I wish we'd had longer, but know that I loved you with my whole heart. I will always love you, my Angel Girl.







Abigail Otis
12/12/2002 - 8/26/2010