I remember when I first met you, it was maybe 1992 or so. I was still in college, I remember that much, because I was home for Christmas break and I was on a date with this insanely cute boy named Shane. It was late by the time we came home, we had popped in a movie in the VCR—Weird Science or Airplane! or something, I can’t remember exactly. Anyway, I remember you came out of my parent’s bedroom all crazy and running around, you were new to our family and you were so small. You might have weighed a pound if you were dipped in half a pound of chocolate.
I was excited that you woke up so I could introduce you to my cute date. But Shane was familiar with puppies you see, and he knew you had just woken up and thought you were going to pee or something. So he picked you up with one hand and he looked totally worried and confused, he just stood there. With you sitting there in his PALM. You were so small.
I remember sneaking you into grocery stores and other places inside my jacket or tucked inside my purse. You were so small, and so sweet.
I was away for many years after that. Then when I moved back home, you met for the first time my puppy Puno—Puno the Duno *cue horror flick music*. He was a spaz, remember that? He was obnoxious, I give you that. You didn’t know what to think of him. Well. I take that back, you thought he was a real asshole.
You were forced to tolerate him, but as the years went by, he wasn’t all bad. He helped you sometimes, and you gave him kisses. Especially recently, when you got sick.
My sister loved you a whole lot, you were her baby. Sometimes you got on my nerves because you sure did have a mind of your own, and you barked a lot whenever I tried to leave the house or pulled into a parking lot. But I loved you too. I always thought you were the most precious thing when you got your hair cut short and they put you in a knitted sweater to keep warm and you loved that.
My dad loved you a whole lot, my mom did too—more than you can ever know. It was so very hard to make the decision to let you go. We didn’t want you to feel so much pain, we didn’t want you to starve to death and waste away because you didn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep. Days and days went by and many tears were shed. We couldn’t stop the cancer that made you think you were jumping on the bed when you were really trying to jump on the toilet last night. We laughed about that a little, but it wasn’t funny. We love you, you see. And we didn’t know how to make it all better for you. My sister wanted to be here, to be there for you, with you, to hold you.
Today, we lost a member of our family. We miss you Pumpkin. Thank you for the time you gave us, you made us all so happy.
