R.I.P.

Today was a very, very difficult day. Actually, this week has been an extremely difficult week. It's been one of those weeks that just leaves one feeling completely and utterly exhausted at the end. Well, this week ended by saying goodbye to my sweet, 14 year old dog, Pretty. I had all week to prepare, but still even in knowing how the day would end, I was still overcome with sadness and great loss. This pound puppy was the greatest, sweetest, loyal friend that I really could ever have asked for. I got her my second month of college and she has lasted through six moves through three states, two marriages (one divorce, whew), two children, college, careers, friends, cars, everything. She was ALWAYS happy to see me when I came home. She loved to be outdoors and roamed aimlessly, just sniffing the neighborhood smells. Her shedding was atrocious; once I filled a lawn bag full of her "fur." Really. One time she got 47 ticks at once while hiking. Once she hid under my little vintage white gas stove and it took me a couple hours to find her. She ran away twice. Was hit by a car once. Ate countless bags of trash (I'm sure!). She woke me when I had fallen asleep while boiling baby bottles and caught the kitchen on fire. Once she pooped in the back of my Subaru wagon when I was collecting creek rocks. She used to jump from the bed through the little sliding windows in the cab of my dad's truck (she was never a truck riding dog!). Lately, her breath could melt the hairs on your face and she was a panter, especially during dinner time. Once she ate an entire batch of fresh baked biscuits right off the counter. She was in love. Once. Mica was his name (and what a handsome Doberman he was!). To this day if I said, "Mica" she would go to the front door to greet him. She would do just about anything for a piece of cheese or a hot dog. She shredded my entire couch while I was in class back in 1994. ENTIRE COUCH. She would chew anything made of wood. Including the thousands of sticks she would bring home and gnaw away. Thunder storms terrified her; she hid in the bathroom. She hated to get her feet wet. Like a princess she would tip toe through the yard if it was raining. She avoided puddles like the plague. She loved car rides, especially in the back seat where she would poke her head out the window. She used to chase her tail. Clockwise and counter clockwise. She used to lay her head in my lap when I cried. She really, really was devoted to making me happy. And she certainly did that. For nearly 15 years she was MY dog. MY Pretty Girl. I already miss her. I miss her constant pacing around our downstairs- through the kitchen around through the living room, and through the dining room; she would do it ten or fifteen times a night. I miss her hot garbage breath on my leg while I eat. I miss her outside routine of front door to back door to front door and so on. I miss her brown eyes that became so cloudy you could hardly tell their color. I miss her soft ears and her skinny hips. I miss her all over. I miss her and it hurts.
So, this rambling of words is for whoever reads this to know her simple ways. Farewell, friend.