Dear Larry: Beginnings

Written on January 26th, 2017

Dear Larry,

We’re getting another dog. That sounds awfully blunt, but I’m not sure how else to say it – we’re picking her up a week from today, in the beginning of February. February 2nd, to be exact… exactly four months since we lost you.

We didn’t pick that date on purpose. It’s just how it happened, and like everything else that has been a part of this experience, I think it was another sign. I think that somehow everything is coming full circle. I think that we are really, truly saving a life. And I think, most of all, that this is what you would want.

We all miss you so much baby. And I know I was never able to have a full conversation with you, back and forth, even when you were still here with us. But despite that, I feel like we all knew you pretty well – and the Larry we knew loved us so much he would want there to be new life and joy in our home even if he couldn’t be there to see it (though to be fair, I still believe you can see everything now).

Her name is Snort. I think you’d like her – although you did always like every dog you met, perhaps even a little too much. She’s not quite two years old and she’s the sweetest thing, Larry, and I mean just the sweetest. She and Lucy get along; I know you’ll be pleased that there’s someone who can lay by her when she isn’t feeling well like you always used to. She’s a good girl, and we’re all so happy that she can be a part of our family. But she’ll never replace you, and you have to know that.

Your collar and paw print and ashes still sit in Mom’s beautiful teal cabinet shelf. We all still cry about you, laden with the weight that your empty kennel brings (I never did fully appreciate how heavy emptiness can be). We still miss you every single day… but we also still love all animals, and we’ll never be able to stop inviting them into our home.

I want to thank you for paving the way for Snort, Larry. You changed our lives. Without you, we probably never would have made our annual donations to the humane society, never would have fallen in love with the companionship of dogs, never would have met Snort and ended up realizing it was meant to be. I think everything happens for a reason, and the reasons in this story are all wonderful ones even if chapters of it are sad.

I hope you look down on us and wag your tail because you know that our capacity for love has grown even further in these past four months. I hope you feel happy when you see Dad cuddling with your new sister, and I hope you run alongside her in the snow from up wherever you are. We adore you, buddy boy. You’re still my first best friend.

Keep watching over us – you know we still need it.

Always yours,