My Monkey

My boy, my boy, my beautiful boy, how much more love can you give? Always there wagging that tail, with eyes so wide, bright and happy, all just for me. I was your everything, your morning, your evening. You are my everything, my smiles, my laughs, and my heart. I received your blessing of a life at four weeks of age, unbeknownst to me, missing your doggie lessons from mom and her nourishing milk. You were so small, you fit in the palms of my hands, I thought for sure I would smoosh you while I slept, so we went and got you a beddy-bye for on the bed, you loved it. You would curl up in it and I would fall asleep staring at you. Turns out you would never really grow out of it, you'd hide treats and food in it and flip it upside down on top of yourself and we'd play hide and seek. I was lied to about you and I hope all my love negated the rough beginning you had.

Every day is an adventure for us, whether it's the doggie park, the plain old park, the quarry or even the beach, we are there next to each other, enjoying the time passing us by. The days turned to months and the snow set in. It was like time stopped and we were stuck in the house, no more running and playing on our adventures. You became frustrated and acted out by getting in the trash and not listening, but I never stopped loving you. The snow began to melt and you had your first seizure. I was so afraid and didn't know what to do, I thought I was losing you. You came out of it and seemed confused, I could only hold you tell you it would be alright, that I was right there. The wonderful vet called me back and we went to see her. I was told that if you had more of them, that there was a medicine that would help you, and that I should remain calm with you when it happened and that you would be alright. Turns out, you would have one every week. On week two, you had three in one day, I was so sad and upset for you, but we went to the nice lady and she prescribed you Phenobarbital. You would take it without issue every morning and evening and again we started on our daily adventures, we were happy again.

It was two days before Father's Day 2018 and you woke up puking this morning after your pills. I thought to myself, my poor boy's tummy is upset, he'll sleep it off and all will be well. As it was, you puked multiple times all day and didn't really move around too much. I was worried. The next day you seemed a little better and we went as we always did. It was getting hot as we headed home and you sat on the passenger side on the way, seemingly okay. We were sitting at the neighbor's house outside when you puked all down the side of me and all down the front of you. I felt so bad, the neighbor dumped warm water on us so we could clean off. I then called the nice lady and we went to see her. She gave you a shot of anti-nauseous medicine and told me to give you liquids and gradually start solids. We got home and I made you a comfy spot on the beddy-bye by me and you slept the pain away. Shawn woke me multiple times worried about you and I thought you would be okay. The last time I woke, you were barely here with me, I rushed you to an emergency vet, looking for them to save you. Instead, I got lied to again about you. At least you got to smell and see me one last time, you used your last bit of energy to try and come to me, but your body gave out and you died in Shawn's arms in the 100-degree weather, 20 minutes from home. I hate them for not telling me you were dying, I didn't get to say goodbye and that I love you. My boy, my boy, my beautiful boy, one day I will be with you again.