a letter

Our beloved Sawyer,

I can't believe you're gone.  I walk into the living room at times still expecting to see you perched on your favorite spot on the back of the couch, protectively watching everything out the window.  The house is quiet without the pitter-patter of your tiny paws running around playfully on wood floors.

You loved bed time.  When you knew it was time, you'd run as fast as your little legs could carry you down the hall and into our bedroom, jumping up and down until one of us picked you up and plopped you down into bed.  You'd roll around and nuzzle into the perfect spot.  You loved starting the night out at our feet, but you always, always ended up sleeping by our heads.  My favorite was when you nuzzled into the back of my neck or the crook of my arm.  You kept me warm.  Every night I long for that feeling again, the feeling of your soft fur against me...  I always knew I was loved by you.  We think bed time was your favorite because you knew you got to be with us all night, uninterrupted, resting together as a family.

I hate coming home from work every day.  I hate it.  You're not there to greet me with your funny smile and delighted wiggles.  You always greeted us the same... with absolute love and excitement.  

I saw dog food in someone's cart today at Wal-Mart and I almost lost it because I'm not buying your food anymore, and I wanted so desperately to have dog food in my cart.  I loved watching your tail wiggle almost as fast as the wings of a hummingbird whenever you knew we were getting a treat for you.  Losing you has caught me off guard in small but very frustrating ways every day.  When I run across one of your toys or a stray food kibble or your little sweater we put on you to help keep you warm, I want to scream.  When I don't see you lying peacefully in the rays of sunshine coming through the window onto the floor, I feel that something's not right.  I lie down and cry and try to remember what it felt like to snuggle with you.

I miss hearing you growl at Daddy every morning in the bathroom when he gets in the shower.  You'd growl and growl until he handed over his boxer shorts to you.  You'd grab them swiftly in your mouth and run away with them to the living room, hoping no one was following you.  I don't know why you loved his boxers so much, silly boy.

Your favorite spot to nap was in my lap with a blanket.  We spent so many nights together with Daddy, just the three of us, watching movies and nonsense.  It felt perfect because you were there.  I always giggled at you when you were exhausted.  You'd let out tiny moans just like a human would and sigh heavily as though you hadn't slept in days, when in reality you had slept all night and taken multiple naps.  It took a lot of rest to reenergize your tiny self.

You hated snow.  You were so little, and snow was so deep for you... deep and cold and wet.  You hated being wet.  We have pictures from a big snow we had where we were all out in the back yard, and you had the grumpiest look on your face.  I still giggle when I see those pictures.  Any time you were wet, whether from snow or rain or a bath, you'd sit in my lap and let me blow dry your fur with warm air and a brush.  You loved it.  And I loved those uninterrupted moments of nurturing you.

One of our favorite memories was the first time we took you to the cabin.  You were still a puppy then. Other than for bathing we had never seen you in water and didn't know how you'd handle the creek.  I waded across it and sat on a rock.  You looked at me with your concerned eyes from the other side and began wiggling your tail to let me know you wanted to be with me, and then you began wading.  When the water became deep for you, you paddled your way over to me, your head barely above water.  Daddy and I began laughing and cheering.  We didn't know you could swim.  You figured it out on your own because you wanted to be with me.  It was so sweet.  And then you got up into my lap and shivered and shivered from the cold creek water.

And I'll never forget the day we brought you home.  You were so teeny-tiny you could sit on Daddy's shoulder quite perfectly.  You slept all the way home in an orange towel on my lap.  'Til the day you were gone that towel was your favorite.  We played and played with you that night, marveling at how precious and fun you were.  From the beginning, you knew you belonged with us.  You immediately let us love and protect you.  You snuggled with us from the very first day as though we had been your mommy and daddy for years.

You journeyed with us to three different homes.  You never liked it when we moved because you didn't like change.  But once we got settled in and you realized everything was the same - you still got to sleep with us every night, you were still ours, we were still living life together, you were happy again.

I really want to be mad at you for doing what you knew you weren't supposed to... getting too close to the road.  But I can't be.  You're not here.  I'm angry that you lived such a short life.  Like anyone who has ever loved someone so much, I always thought you'd die from old age.  Sometimes I feel like I'm in a nightmare, and I'll wake up in bed tomorrow and you'll be yawning and stretching on my stomach, breathing yucky but perfect doggie breath onto my face.  Or I think maybe it wasn't you who died, and you'll miraculously show up at our doorstep and restore our joy.

I have wept more in the last few days than ever in my life because I miss you so much, and because I wish I could go back to that day and do something differently so that maybe you'd still be here, sitting next to me.  Whenever I cried when you were still here, you would jump up in my lap and start giving me kisses.  Or sometimes you would just sit still, looking up at me with sadness in your eyes.  You didn't want me to be hurt.

Sweet Sawyer, you taught Daddy and I how to love each other better.  You taught us unconditional love every day.  You showed us how to enjoy life and how to rest.  You showed me how to be a good listener and a good comforter.  You taught me how to be a real friend.  You showed us how to be a family and how to be faithful.  You helped us get through tough times when you were the only source of happiness we had.  You saved us in times we might have otherwise given up.  

I love you.

You hated goodbyes the most.  You hated when we had to leave.  And now here we are... You are gone.  We are heartbroken.  And we have to say goodbye.

Time will not heal the pain we're feeling, but we're hoping that God will.  We'll never forget you.  We'll never forget your love or the love we have for you.  You'll always have my heart.  Goodbye, my sweet baby.