17 long years is just too short a time
by Stephanie Humphrey
(Yorba Linda, California)
When I was three years old, my mother and I offered to watch a friend of the family's new puppy while she moved. I still remember when we arrived at her house to pick up the little thing... He came running out of the bathroom she was keeping him in and immediately began eating all the fuzzballs and little bits of whatever he could find off of the carpet. All white with a pink nose, black around the muzzle, and orange tipped ears... he was a beautiful little Jindo puppy, and needless to say, at 3, I wanted to keep him.
Luckily that dream came true, as his owner never returned our calls after she moved, nor did she give us her new address.
For the last 17 years, this dog has faithfully slept by my side, followed me wherever I went, kept me warm on the couch when it was cold, licked my face in joy when I returned home from school, waited patiently for me when I would leave him again.
He protected me from harm, just as I protected him when he needed. He dried my tears with his kisses, and was always willing to lend a listening ear to me.
He was my first dog, and I never realized until now that we would have to part one day. I suppose I am lucky, that I was able to keep him for so long; many people don't get this long with their dogs, but it's making it all the harder...
I was always taught that dogs are like children, they depend on you for everything in life: companionship, shelter, food, water, exercise, medicine, comfort. But, I have learned from my wonderful baby boy, that I indeed was the one who depended on him for all these things, and so much much more.
I will miss him with all my heart, and I cannot wait to meet him at Rainbow Bridge.
I love you, Cowango.
You're in my heart forever.