Bridgette

Bridgette died last night. (March 14, 2012). I cried like I haven't cried in a long time. Maybe since February 12 2011.

She was born in May of 2000. I got her about six weeks later.

She was a gift given to me from a friend. This friend Susan, who later became my wife, could see that I was hurting and lonely and headed toward destruction.

She put allot of energy into doing something that would help lift my spirits. So naturally she got me a puppy.

Why not a card or a bag of licorice?

A puppy.

What was I going to do with a puppy?

I was living alone, working more than full time, trying desperately to see my kids when ever I could.

A puppy! With a massive pink bow. Complete with a crate, food bowls, food, toys etc.

Thanks, but I don't have time for a puppy. I appreciate the thought but now is not the right time for me to take care of a puppy. I can't even take care of myself let alone a puppy.

All these words were in my mind and suppose to come out of my mouth, but just as they passed my tongue they became,

"Thanks so much. she is just what I need."

What the heck did I just say? I can't do a puppy right now. Can't you see I'm drowning here?

And there we were. Me and Bridgette. This adorable little Golden Retriever puppy with a pink bow and me. Spending many, many nights together, playing, learning tricks, cuddling, eating and sleeping together. I know that dogs shouldn't sleep in bed with me but it will only be tonight.

Tomorrow I'll make her sleep in her crate.

Or maybe the night after that.

How did Susan know that this puppy would stabilize my life and be just the thing that would begin the long process back? I don't know but I will be forever grateful that she knew.

Some how she knew.

Almost 12 years later, Bridgette left me. Left us. She has been a great part of our lives. Our grandkids have never know us without her. Our kids have become used to having her with us everywhere. On camping trips, at birthdays, family party's, in the house (Always in the house. Never an outside dog) and anywhere that we could possibly take her.

She left me in a much better place than where she found me.

Thank you Susan and thank you Bridgette.

I miss her.