A Letter to My Dead Dog

Dear Ghost, 

Thank you for giving us your heart and your happiness. I remember when we got you from the rescue  

in Phoenix. It was like matchmaking. We took Goblin up to make sure he'd get along as if it was a blind date. When you began to nibble at his toes we knew everything was going to be okay, especially when Goblin gave us that look which meant can we keep her? You came home with us and became part of our lives. Every day you were happy to see us. Every day you were thrilled to be a part of our lives. Even as you were dying I knew that you were happy we were there. I could see it in your eyes even as you faded away.

I am so happy you were a part of our lives.

But there are some things I am sorry for.

I'm sorry that you were set on fire when you were six months old. If I could find the man who did it, I'd let him know what it felt like. Sometimes when you slept and dreamed and were howling, I knew you were reliving that moment. I'm so sorry that ever happened to you.

I'm sorry you were born deaf because an asshole breeder was trying to breed a merle even though he or she knew there was an 80% failure rate and didn't care. Because of this you were never able to hear the love we heaped on you. You were never able to listen to your mom as she spoke the most loving words to you.

I'm sorry you were turned over to a rescue. Okay, I'm only half sorry for that. Because had you not

gone to a rescue, we never would have found you.

I'm sorry that I wasn't always patient. You were a spastic little beast. You shook your ears too loud and you never learned to lick. You'd just hover your face in front of ours knowing you should do something, but not knowing what to do. Now I wish I could hear your too-loud-ear-flaps again and that you'd do that face-hovering thing.

I'm sorry that I yelled at you in frustration. It was stupid of me. After all, who yells at a deaf dog?

I'm sorry for so many things, but most of all, I'm sorry that you are dead.

We will meet again someday. Until then, run free in the fields of heaven, chasing forever rabbits, howling at the moon, and listening to the great big universe with ears that can finally hear. And every once in a while, pause, listen, and you can hear us talking about you. You might even hear us calling you. If that should happen, come to us, and let us love you for a time before you return to the fields of forever rabbits.

I love you, Ghost.

Until we meet again.