Let me start by saying that Dozer was not mine, but although my brain keeps telling my heart that, my stubborn heart will never be able to comprehend that, therefore I say that he is “my” Dozer.
My dear Dozer,
When I first met you, during a meet and greet, I was in awe of your size. You, so far, are the biggest dog I’ve been fortunate and lucky enough to board, know, and love. You were impressive, to say the least. As I got to know you, I realized that what was more impressive than your size was the fact that you were sweet, loving, docile, and so easy to fall in love with.
Forgive me for not writing right away, but I was filled with anger and I did not think that that would have been the right time to write this letter to you. Why angry? Because you are gone, it is that simple. While dwelling in my anger, I remembered reading somewhere that the reason why a dog happens to be in our lives is to teach us the many things we are unable to learn from other humans, and that a dog’s life is short because if it were to be long, we, humans, would not be able to cope with such a loss. It actually made sense to me.
Before I had that epiphany, I was just sad, period. At night, I could not stop thinking about you and so I started to cry. Cynthia saw me and comforted me and told me the following: “Dozer will be sorely missed, that is for sure,” then she said, “He farted when we were sitting at the table. Didn’t you smell it?” I don’t know why, but for some odd reason I just laughed my butt off. I truly needed that, but in all honesty, I did not smell your farts. Thank you for that.
Cynthia, Alex and I are going to miss you dearly, and we hope the best to your pet parents while dealing with your loss. I am not going to say good-bye to you, but rather I’ll see you later for I know we will see each other in the future. Until then, a big hug and kiss from all of us.