Presley helped me make a new house my home, met me at the bus in the afternoons and loved to get cozy right next to me every night it was time for bed…
He loved a car ride, but didn’t love being away from home for too long…
He was quick to make it known he did not approve of people hitting (playfully) each other, and never missed an opportunity to ask for a treat whenever someone was in the kitchen.
He was fiercely loyal, protected his yard from all intruders and would regularly be on “patrol” (sunbathing) to make sure all was well in his domain.
In some ways, it feels dramatic and overstated to grieve an animal. And maybe it is. But the thing about those we come to call family is that they aren’t just animals.
They’re companions, dear friends and safe places. They’re laughter, reminders to breathe and to just sit a while and soak up the sun.
They have a way of helping us to remember to jump in the puddles and dance in the rain; you’ll dry off.
Roll in the mud, it’ll wash off.
Play in the dirt and don’t be afraid of the grass stains; it’ll be worth it.
Run around and act goofy; it’ll lifts the soul and helps people smile.
Rest (and naps) are important, treats and snacks are a core food group, and puppy dog eyes can crack the toughest locks.
They help us remember how powerful it is to not be alone, that words aren’t required and hugs make everything better.
Presley was a Christmas present who was small enough to come in a box not much bigger than a softball. When I was handed the box, the first thing I did was shake it to see what was inside… whoops.
We’ve spent 16 Christmases together, 16 birthdays, and countless other highs and lows. Those milestones will look a little different now, but man, am I grateful for those 16 trips around the sun with you.
I love you, buddy.
Love on Ian for me. 🤍
