Dear Korra

Once upon a time, one of Mike’s best friends remarked he had never known a person that loved dogs as much as I did but didn’t actually have one. Of course, the reason I didn’t have a dog was I was waiting for the right time. I was waiting for my life to calm down. I was waiting for a fence.

Apparently, I was waiting for you.

I want you to know that since the very first time I held you (and wouldn’t let you go) I’ve wanted to keep you forever. I still do. I always will. I know I tell you that a lot, but it’s just as true each time as it was the first. You’re not the first dog I have loved, and you won’t be the last, but you will always be the first dog I potty trained, the first dog I taught to walk on a leash, and the first dog I would call my best friend.

Yes, you were a rescue pup, and while I know Mike and I gave you a home, there’s really a few things for which I should be thanking you. Thank you for snuggling with me early in the morning on your “perching” bed while we watch the sun rise, the neighborhood children catch the bus, and the trash truck make its rounds on Fridays. Thank you for checking on me when I sneeze. I’m sorry it bothers you so badly. Thank you for sleeping on my feet. They get cold sometimes. Thank you for keeping the bunnies out of my garden and frightening solicitors away. Thank you for going on walks with me, even when my knee was sprained and we had to go slow. Thank you for reminding me every day that I don’t need much to be happy – just food, water, shelter, and someone I can trust to play with. Thank you for being excited about life and experiencing the world. That excitement is contagious.

I love how cute you are in sweatshirts and how you cock your head to one side when you’re thinking – sometimes far enough that your face is almost parallel to the ground. Your athletic ability continues to amaze me, as does your seemingly endless supply of energy. You live in the moment and embrace each day, nose bugs, play in the leaves, bite water in creeks, and run like the wind. No one loves their friends more than you do – both the human and canine ones. You’re transparent and expressive. It’s not really hard to figure out what you’re feeling and thinking. You’re the silliest creature I’ve ever met, but you’re also the most passionate. Who would have thought anything would love chasing, catching, and holding a ball so much.

Your toenails tear up my carpet. Sometimes you puke on it. You almost destroyed a production camera (Not cheap, Dearest, not cheap.) when you were jumping around, acting the fool, and collided with the tripod. My socks are rarely dry because you walk away from your water bowl with your mouth open. There is dog hair on the chaisse and the sofa, and I’m not sure how I’ll ever get it out of my car when I finally decide to trade the thing. You can be insanely overbearing when we have visitors – loud enough I’m sure you’re terrorizing the village, jumping, peeing if you really love the person, and demanding to be the center of attention. Your endless squeaking on the way to the dog park can get really annoying, and sometimes, I really don’t want to play ball (especially when I’m trying to write…like now…seriously, right now!).

But I really don’t think about any of that on a daily basis. You’re a member of my pack, and I’m happier when you’re with me. You make life better, more adventurous, and a lot more fun. Thank you for reminding me that time is precious and that it’s so important to make the most of it. Know that where I go, you go because today and every day I will keep you forever.