He Wasn’t Just a Dog, He Was Family

Today it was the snow falling peacefully outside the window and the memory of our first winter together. I remember walking down the front steps of our old house the snow piled higher than the steps and me not being able to tell where one step ended and the next began. You ran down the stairs pulling me along with you until I found myself sitting on the walkway covered in snow and your fuzzy little legs desperately trying to pull me further through the snow. And today as I watch the snow fall my eyes fill with tears.

Yesterday it was the vegetables I cut for the soup and upon dropping a carrot on the floor, I thought “Bailey will get it, he loves carrots”.  Another day it was the bacon cooking that you didn’t come running for or the day when I came home and no one greeted me at the door with a wagging tale.

It’s all of these small moments that stop and take my breath away. That in the days since Bailey passed away, have caused me to break down and cry. And I find myself bracing every time someone comes to the door and there is no barking or at bedtime when I pause and remember that I don’t need to let the dog out. It’s the toys I keep finding and the places he used to sit that I keep looking for him.

And I’m sure that most of you who have pets or have lost pets or have loved a pet, get this, that for my family Bailey wasn’t just a dog, he was part of our family.  He was the first pet that John and I loved. Bailey came into our lives 3 months into our marriage and he was there for everything.  He was our first baby. I remember the sense of panic I felt leaving him for the first time when we went on vacation. I remember how I poured over dog books and websites when we got him because I wanted to do everything right (the same thing that I would do once I was pregnant with Jackson). I remember sitting up all night making sure he didn’t pull his stitches out after we had him neutered (which was worse than being up all night with an infant). It was how we wouldn’t let just anyone watch him.

Bailey was the one who was there when I read Marley and Me and sobbed like a baby through the end while he rested his head on my leg and sighed, and John told me “I told you not to read that book”.

When I was pregnant with Jackson I worried that the two wouldn’t get along. That like my parents I would have to part with my dog because he didn’t get along with the baby. I found myself not only reading baby books but books on how to get dogs ready for the arrival of a baby. When my water broke and we left for the hospital I remember thinking his little life would never be the same and I can still see his face as we rushed out the door in the middle of the night. At the hospital as John called family to share that I was in labor, I could be heard in the back ground yelling, “make sure someone goes and checks on Bailey in the morning”. That dog had an irreplaceable spot in my heart.

And all my worries and my, “bring home the babies hat and blanket for him to sniff… and let him smell the diapers and hang out in the nursery” were all unfounded. Bailey loved Jackson, just the way we did. He loved protecting him when Jackson and John would play super hero and bad guys. He loved to steal food off of his plate and eat anything that was left unattended.

Having Bailey allowed me to teach Jack about how we treat animals. That we treat them with kindness, respect and love. One of my proudest moments was when a friend of Jacks was over and attempted to kick Bailey and Jack said, “we don’t do that to Bailey, he’s part of our family”.

Because he was. Bailey wasn’t just our dog, he was our family and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. That I don’t wish we had more time. That we had one more walk, one more belly scratch, one more day of him barking at every neighborhood dog and delivery man who came down the street. One more day… and maybe in the end that’s all we’ll ever want when we lose someone we love, just that one more day. That one more moment for them to know what they meant to us.

Bailey was 9, when he passed away. I wasn’t ready to lose him. I wasn’t ready to let go. And I guess I never would have been. He was the first member of our family, and our home and our hearts haven’t been the same without him.