My dog, Bridgit, passed away on Monday. I just got word today.
I'm not upset that I didn't know--my parents had emailed me asking me to call home, and it wasn't until today that I got aroud to calling. I'm not upset about how she went--there was no prolonged illness, nothing that kept her from going about her day as normal. She was on a morning walk with my dad, taking a dump and a leak like any other day, and then she just collapsed. Like the mileage that had been put on her body was just too great, and she couldn't
live anymore. I'm just upset that I've lost her, that I'll never see her again.
This probably sounds really stupid to a lot of people--that I'm this upset, that I'm crying this much because of a dog. But...she was never just a dog to me. She was my sister. I remember me and Amy sharing a laugh because she'd heard my mom say "why don't you take your sissy on a walk?" and she thought she was referring to Krista. She always knew who to go to when mom or dad would ask "where's sissy?" She has been with me since childhood, and grew up alongside us. I knew she was old, but I always imagined that she was too strong, too young-hearted to leave us so soon.
This is the part where everyone talks about what a great pet they had, and it's true. Bridgit was one of the best dogs I've known. She was dumb an overly protective (especially in regards to grown men) but she was also kind and loving and fun and just always there when you needed her. She somehow always knew when I was sad, and would cry and lick my face until I laughed and swatted her away. One of my best memories was my dad picking me and my sister up at Elementary school, and bringing Bridgit. All the kids swarmed her, petting and talking about her, and she was
so good and calm and patient. But the principal asked us to not bring her to the school anymore, as she was making some of the parents "nervous." Now, I can understand somewhat--she was a mix between a German Shepard and a Husky, so she was a big dog and could hypothetically cause a lot of damage--but at the time it just didn't make
sense. She was so good that it was unfair that I couldn't show her off to my classmates. Bridgit would have chased down a school bus to keep us safe. She tried.
The worst part is that I know it hasn't really hit me fully yet. And it probably won't until I'm back at home and she isn't there to greet me. Isn't there to beg for food when I'm eating. Isn't there to play tug-of-war with. Isn't there to curl up at my feet when I'm on the computer. I don't know what I'm going to do when I'm at home.
What I do know, is that I'm going to miss her so much.