When I graduated High School, many strange things were going on. I was working at the YMCA in Gainesville, Navigating splitting up parents, where to go to college, living on my own, and well as cliche as it was… “finding myself”. I wanted to move to New York, but moreso- I wanted to get a dog- and one day that’s just what I did. So many things were going on that were such a distraction, but my memories of that time are hanging at the dog park with my puppy, or chasing her around when she got out, or her head out the window while I drove, ears a flappin’ in the wind. Getting her burgers and catching her drinking an abandoned beer. You get the picture here. She was the best dog. A funny dog. A bad dog. A wonderful dog. There was a beagle, Number 17 we called him, and we tried to adopt him. There was someone that beat us to it. Then I saw a litter of Lab mixes- #33. A sweet little female gave me a wink- and 15 years later, she gave me that same look- last Sunday when I said Goodbye to her and told her it was ok now, I had a baby- I had a husband- and she could go now, peacefully. Chicken treats in hand I let her lick my face, and two days later she curled up and went where all good dogs go. That dog watched me do silly and down right stupid things most everywhere I lived and never tattled. She played tug of war with a dead squirrel, terrorized Gainesville with her Jack Russell Bestie, and then moved to NYC. She moved to California with me and freaked out in Runyon Canyon, Took a midnight train to Georgia and wanted to leave there even more than I did. She found a goat head with me in Harlem, helped me snag my husband with her luminous stare, and gave me the strength to keep going when we lost our first baby. She got me through so much, and it was hard to see her in pain, as it would be any child. I loved the way she squinted in the rain and snow, and gave me dirty looks when it was time to get in the elevator. I loved the way she only wanted to sleep in our bed. I love the way she licked my tears away every time I cried. She lived all over this country with me, and survived so many weird illnesses. She helped me survive so many things too. I will miss her with everything I have, and if you read this, and you do not have a pet, consider adopting one. I can truly say it changed my life for the better.
Paco ol’ girl, I cannot for the life of me remember why I named you that, but it fit you so well you sweet, sweet dog.
All dogs do go to heaven, and that my best friend, is where I will see you next.
- Paco Durlacher #33. 1996-2011
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