I found Pepper (a black flat-coated retriever cross) at a Pet Rescue in Florida where I was attending school. I was new to town, one of our family dogs back home passed away before I moved, and I was lonely. The moment our eyes met when I walked through the door, his tail started wagging and I fell in love.
Pepper soon learned that I was his true mommy. I was not going to hurt him like he was hurt before, I was not going to desert him like he was deserted before, and he would be loved, respected and nurtured forever. I soon adopted another, younger puppy who adored him. He was a happy, nurturing, patient older brother.
School ended, and we moved back to Canada. We moved out west, and Pepper and his sister had a big yard, lots of parks, and new friends. For years, we were a big happy family. Trips to the mountains, hikes and adventures were all shared with them. We moved back east when family issues made it necessary, and Pepper thrived by being part of a bigger family here, with lots of play time with cousins.
Then the incomprehensible happened. (and 17 months later I cry again for him)
I got home from work and Pepper had vomitted a few times. He didn't seem himself, didn't eat supper so he lay on the couch and I pet him. After a while, he collapsed and couldn't stand up. I lifted all 90 lbs of him and got him into the car and to the emergency clinic.
He was shocky, panting, they couldn't find his liver on x-ray...it didn't look good. My sister came and brought Pepper's cousins for moral support. After he was stabilized, the vet told me to go home, try to rest, and come get him at 8 to take him to my regular vet.
I didn't sleep a wink, needless to say, and his sister was up all night looking for him.
In the morning, he was vomitting again, panting and scared despite the sedation on the drive from the clinic to his vet. His regular vet let me sit with him in the back operating room as she examined him. After a few hours and more tests, she told me that it appeared he had a tumour in his liver, totally asymptomatic, that burst. It was impossible to hear. There was no choice. He was only 8 years old and I had only had 7 years with him. I was lucky in the fact that my sister saw my car in my vet's parking lot and was with me when Pepper passed. We brought Amber, his sister in to say goodbye so that she would not spend any more time searching for him.
All of that was the easy part.
I was lucky that I sat at his side and kissed him, talked to him and pet him for his final 3 hours.
I now had to face a life without him and that felt impossible. I just wanted him back. I still do. There are so many memories of him - his goofiness, his gentle nature, his knowing if someone was frail and being careful around them.
He was my very best friend, and I hope that he is romping and playing and enjoying himself until my time comes and I find him again.
I love you, Pepper.
Mommy misses you every day.
Be a good boy until we meet again.
xox
Mommy