Storytelling was one of my favorite sessions when I was at Trauma Camp. The facilitator would give us a writing prompt and instructed us to just “let the words flow without censoring or judging them.” This is from one of those classes.

The first time I saw you, you barked at me. You were in your tiny kennel in the animal shelter but it was still your territory and, by God, you were going to protect it. When they opened your cage, you silently walked over to me and put your front paws on my thigh as I knelt down. I hesitantly reached out a hand to pet your dark fur. I scratched you behind the ears as Elias stroked the top of your head and Carrie petted your back.

Your eyes were as big and brown as they had looked on the website. You sat silently, clueless as to why we were there. It wasn’t until we got you home and you had pissed in every corner of the house that you finally smiled and panted.

We’ve been through a lot together. You had heartworms and a castration. I had my gallbladder & appendix removed and had a vasectomy. We formed an alliance against Carrie so you could sleep on our bed. We moved onto the farm together. We chased that loose cow back into its field one time.

I know you are still confused about why I don’t sleep in the bed anymore as well as why my scent moved into the RV. I know you have no idea why I hug you and cry so much. I also know you have no idea that I’m in New Mexico right now.

I can’t be your master and pack member any more but I will always cherish your licks, you jumping into my arms, and you letting me teach you to talk.

Thank you for loving the boys and Carrie while I’m away.

Try not to eat Forest’s food while he watches TV, please.

Good boy.