It’s been a while since I’ve posted, well, anything on this blog. Noticing how much of a downer my last post was, I had resolved to make sure it would be much more upbeat. It was a nice thought.

I received news today that Sawyer, the family dog, the cutest damn West Highland White Terrier ever, my little brother in every way other than species, was finally overcome by his kidney disease and allowed to rest.

I can’t remember a time that Sawyer wasn’t in my life. Granted, he was usually in that part of my life that’s directly under the whole family’s feet, but he was there. At dinnertime he’d lurk (again, directly underfoot) like a fully sentient and fuzzy vacuum with the savagery of a wild honey badger. When commercials would finally end after an eternity of repetition and car sales pitches, only then would the little mutt have the overwhelming desire to pee. Whenever I planned to sit on the floor of our family room (having a La-Z-Boy is kinda pointless if your section doesn’t have a footrest) he would walk in front of me and get himself settled in, without fail, exactly where I had prepared to settle in. To be frank, rarely a day went by that I didn’t feel irritated at the poor guy for depending on me.

And then I went to college.

I would wake up in the morning and not have to worry about getting Sawyer through his routine. I never had my work or meals interrupted by his pleading, whining wailing. I didn’t have to worry about stepping on him accidentally if I stood up too fast. And never, ever did I worry about him stealing my section of the floor. I was free of responsibility.

I missed it so much.

I missed being able to glance up from what I was doing to see him snuggled up on his cushion, dozing lazily, stirring only to wiggle to a new position. I missed having to open the door seemingly every other minute so he could relieve himself, only to have him bark to come back in nearly before I had turned my back. I missed Sawyer always being there, ready to be scratched behind his ears, ready to listen (or pretend to, at the very least) whenever I just needed to say something. Seriously, there was a whole lot of ‘missing’ going on until my visits home. And now I’m afraid it won’t stop.

It’s not that I didn’t see this coming. Hell, I’d have to be the world’s reigning champion of the Obliviousness Tournament to not realize that my last visit would be the last. Yet I’m still having some difficulty processing it all.

It helps to know it was for the best, though. Sawyer wasn’t his old self by a long shot. The last time I was home, just a few days ago, I was spending time with him in the backyard when a rabbit nonchalantly pranced through the picket fence and sat in the middle of the yard. Sawyer got a very clear view of this bunny. Back in his heyday, he would have broken the land speed record in his pursuit.

This time, Sawyer jogged.

Kinda.

Almost more of a trot, really.

Anyway, the bunny got away by a large margin, and Sawyer didn’t seem to care. That’s what really got to me when I thought about it. He understood that certain things were no longer his, and he had accepted that.

Or he had forgotten. The little fuzzhead was really starting to slip.

Regardless of which case was the reality, I realized that the family was beginning to cross the line between loving caretaker to selfish puppet master. We had agreed that the day when Sawyer’s condition had deteriorated to the point where to prolong his life was to prolong his pain would be the day we would let him go with dignity and peace. That day turned out to be today.

I had an urge all day to call my parents. Now I guess I know why. My little buddy wanted me to know, and was pushing me along. Me and my Dad, that is, because Dad ultimately called me.

It’s good that I’ll be home again in a week. I need to see my family.

Sawyer, I’ll miss you buddy. You may have stank and mooched and whined, but I loved you for it anyways. And I’m starting to figure out why you would always take my spot on the living room floor. You weren’t trying to steal it after all.

You were just saving it for when I came back.

I’ll see you in a while, Sawyer. Save me a spot up there too, would you?

I love you,

Sean