Last week we lost a family member.
Our dog Bookah was our first born. He was the constant in the 15 years that Doug and I have been together. We picked him out and brought him home from a farm in Illinois when he was only 7 weeks old. We had not even been dating a year yet.
Fifteen years is a long time. During his life we moved from Chicago to Seattle. We got engaged. We moved from Seattle to New Hampshire. We got married. We bought a house. We had four children. He was there for all of that.
He had a lust for life as most dogs do. He was the highest jumper, the fastest runner and the most beautiful dog I have ever seen. He was the quickest learner at puppy school. He would spin in circles when we said “be a spinner”. He would steal food any chance he could. He even ate a bag of flour one time. Yes, flour. That was a trip to the emergency room. He would wriggle and cry when we came home just because he was so happy to see us. Even if we just went to the store. He was here for us no matter what. He was here for our children. He was happy and he was loved.
This is so hard to write. I’m weeping. I’m missing him being by my feet as I work on my computer. I miss his presence in our home. I still can’t believe he’s gone from our lives. It’s been over a week and I still find myself saving a pan for him to lick out. I find myself looking for him. I hope he knows how much we love him.
Here is Bookah as I will always remember him.
Where I believe he was most happy. By our sides, chasing a tennis ball, swimming in the ocean.
At our wedding.
And as an old man.
Last week we held Bookah in our arms one last time. We told him how much we loved him. We told him not to be scared. We buried him with his face to the sunrise.
Goodbye sweet friend. We love you.