Dear Sugarfoot

Dear Sugarfoot;

When I was a lonely boy, you were always there. Never once did you spurn me other than to chase the occasional cat or squirrel. In a judgmental world you showed nothing but unconditional acceptance and love. When I was feeling down, you lay your head in my lap, and shared your empathy. No matter how sad I was, for whatever reason, a few licks of your raspy tongue and wags of your tail always made me feel better. If that didn’t work you’d drop your favorite ball in my lap and beg until I played. You always knew how to raise me from a funk.

When I had nobody with whom to play catch you were always willing to play fetch. Actually, you were much better at catch than I ever was despite my glove. I will never forget the time we were out for a walk near the baseball field. When that guy hit a high pop fly to the outfield and you cleared the fence in a single bound, snatching that ball before ever it could strike the ground, even the players cheered. Of course, they were less enamored of how long they had to chase your capering self before they got the ball back. Pretty sure the outfield team tried to convince the umpire that you were on the team, but, he called it a double.

On cold nights you lay your warm furry self up against me to ensure I was toasty warm. You had a Teddy Bear, while I had you. Of course, doggy breath in the morning isn’t always the greatest thing to wake up to, but, to be fair, you never once complained when I let one rip under the covers.

You always made me feel safe. With you by my side this naturally shy boy became a great adventurer. We hunted lions on safari, alligators in the swamp, and wolves in the forest while never going more than a mile from home. We were Holmes and Barkson on the case, Lassie and Timmy on the farm, and Rin Tin Rin in war.

Mom had a few issues like when your tail would knock over some knick knacks or when you’d jump on Grandma’s chest and lick her hello. Still, she usually looked the other way when I’d slip you some of those icky veggies she always tried to get me to eat. I caught her smiling sometimes when she thought I wasn’t looking. She laughed so hard I thought she’d cry when you buried the flip flop she used as a punishment tool in the back yard. No matter her complaints, she went out of her way to give you treats despite telling me what a bother you were tracking in mud all the time.

Of course, I was upset when you chewed up my brand new Jordans. But that soulful look in your puppy eyes soon had me hugging you anyway. Nobody could resist… The drool maybe, but not that pleading sad look.

When I got pneumonia and was stuck in bed for a week you’d bring me presents. A drool soaked teddy bear, a sopping wet ball, and once a big toad that was still croaking. You were always one to share. Regardless , you stayed by my side nursing me back to health.

When you got older and weren’t as spry I had to lift you onto the bed at night, but you were always there… Until the day you weren’t. I cried that day, harder than I ever had before. Mom, Dad, and I placed a marker in the yard where we lay you to rest. It sits under your favorite tree. The 0ne where you’d lay panting in the shade after a hearty game of chase until that chattering squirrel would get you jumping and barking again. The same one where you’d rest in dappled sunlight when you were feeling your doggy years. I still visit that marker whenever I go home.

You were my constant companion: My partner in crime. You were my best friend in the world and I would never have wished it otherwise. You taught me how to be loving, supportive, and accepting. If I can face the world with the same type of shaggy aplomb and joy that you did, I will be ahead of the game of life.

For all this, I thank you. I love you. I miss you.

Love,

Your Once and Forever Boy

P.S. … By the way, I got my boy Tim a dog last week. Her name is Sugarfoot. Please watch over them as you did me.