A Story About A Dog

14 1/2 years ago, I started a job, working at a Veterinary Clinic.

 

I was in college and needed a job that would work around the weird class and school observations schedule that future teachers had. And the head vet, an amazing guy who is married to a teacher, himself, took a chance on me. He hired me to work up front, as a secretary of sorts. But I ended up doing all sorts of things from answering phones to cleaning cages to helping in exams and surgeries, to going on the occasional farm call. I loved my job there. I worked there for 4 1/2 years. And even though I always knew the time would come for me to leave, since I was going to school to be a teacher... Well, even so, I was still sad to leave.

Anywho - A few months after I began working there, on a Monday morning, I received a phone call. This woman said she'd found a puppy that had been hit by a car the evening before. So she'd dropped it off on the vet clinic's front porch. This was a fairly common thing, since we often had someone working there on the weekends as well, tending to emergency cases. So one of my co-workers goes out and looks, and this pitiful little, badly injured, puppy is hiding under the porch. She brings in the puppy, (so small, she could fit in the palm of your hand) and our vet, being the amazing guy he is, did all sorts of work on her, to nurse her back to health.

A month later, I got to take that puppy home. She quickly became "my baby" and followed me everywhere. She was most definitely the sweetest dog I've ever had. She loved her people big time. And her favorite past time was sitting right beside or on your feet (or in your lap when she was smaller), just so she could be as close as possible. She loved to go for a ride in the car, especially if that ride included a trip through the McDonald's drive-thru for a cheeseburger or a few chicken nuggets. And we joke that she was born trained, because she never made messes in the house as a puppy. She was such a sweet dog. She loved everyone (except strangers, which was fine by me since that meant she was keeping the house - and us - safe). She was so gentle with my nieces, content to sit there and let them pet her and hug her. Everyone always commented on how sweet she was.

When I left for Senegal the first time, she quickly became my mom's "baby" and sidekick. And when my dad passed away, I was so grateful that my mom still had Allie hanging around as a small source of comfort during those times when she was alone at home. It obviously didn't take away the pain. But still... She was there. And every single time I'd come home for a visit, she'd be excited to see me and would go right back to being mine again. Right up until the day I left, when it was like she just knew... And back to being my mom's girl, she'd go.

In the last year or so, her health started to slowly decline. The once spry puppy was definitely showing her age and had trouble getting around as quickly as she once could. She was still the same sweet ol' girl, though. And even though I kind of knew it'd be the last time I'd see her when I left in January, it was still so heart-breaking to hear that she passed away this past Friday. I'm so sad that this girl won't be running up to meet me when I get home for a visit the next time. I'm so sad that I won't be able to have her sit by my side as I watch tv or read a book at night. I'm so sad I won't be able to load her up in the truck for a ride into town...

I know she was a dog.

But still...  

I'm sad.

She was such an incredible dog.

My mom told me that upon hearing the news that she went to "doggy heaven," my youngest niece told her dad, "I bet Pawpaw is petting Allie in Heaven." And that made me smile. My dad, who tried to be all gruff and strong and pretend like he didn't care so much, loved this dog so much. So, theology about dogs in heaven aside...

To think of my dad petting her again made me smile.