Submitted by acryingkitten:

Tribute to Harley

When I was five years old, my father and mother bought a house several streets away from my old home, the one I was brought to after the hurricane. We moved there and promptly settled in. About a year or so after arriving, my father brought home a bounding, caramel colored, blind puppy and into our backyard.

Well, near-blind. The little canine sensed and saw me nearby, frightened of him. In excitement, he took my fear as a sign of happiness and ran towards me. Me, with a fear of dogs, backed and jumped onto a table he was too small to jump onto. He yipped at me until my dad pulled him away, chuckling. I knew there was nothing to fear, but considering how many times my cousin’s dog barked at me — he was bigger — I didn’t want to take my chances.

And now, I sit here, fifteen years later, tears streaming so badly down my face with the news that he’s gone.

When I finally was comfortable around Harley, it didn’t happen until around the beginning of middle school. The endless times I would sit in the backyard, hating the world, he would walk up to me, lick my face and sit down until I cried myself out. Where I would hug him and he would wriggle around, wanting to play. Making me laugh when he’d roll around in the grass. His growls, his yips and then snuggling into me when he was sleepy.

I knew Harley was getting older when my dad frightened me with the news that he had to help him up because his hips wouldn’t let him stand up.

I knew he was getting older when he didn’t recognize my sister when she came home.

I knew he was getting older when he started losing his hearing and limping.

So why is this so much of a shock to me?

I can’t help but feel very bitter towards my father, and very sympathetic at the same time. He, out of everyone in the family, was closest to Harley. My sister and I were second.

That little caramel colored fluff grew to be a big brown fluff.

I just wished I could have said good bye to him when I got the chance. It breaks my heart that the last days he spent, were in terrible pain.

When I was coming home yesterday, my dad told me what happened. I was in tears in seconds.

He told me in the morning, he didn’t hear barking. He went into the backyard to see that Harley wasn’t moving. He looked and realized Harley was stuck; he couldn’t stand. He said he had to carry him into the car and he rushed him to the vet. They found the tumor and they had to put him to sleep.

So now, I just sit here and pray he’s safe and well in doggy heaven. I miss him so badly and I regret never saying good bye. He was the best little brother ever, and I’m… more than sad that he had to go.

To the best companion in the world, the one that stood with us for fifteen years. That bounded across the backyard to meet us, and comforted me in times of need… Harley, we love and miss you.

I hope you’re okay.

R.I.P Harley.

by A Place To Love Dogs

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