A Letter to My Four-Legged Companion, Hugo

Dear Hugo,

I'll never forget the first time I saw you - there was a picture online, your foster daddy holding your front paws up while you stood on hind legs. From the moment I saw your cute face and huge triangle ears, I knew you were my dog! I remember being so scared that someone would adopt you before I had the chance. I arrived at the store VERY early to make sure I was the first one to meet you. The rescue organization told me your background - a street puppy. When I met you at Petco, the agency was afraid I wouldn't take you because you were so malnourished and so much more unhealthy looking than in pictures. I'll never forget how you jumped up and put both paws on my shoulders then licked both of my cheeks. That was it for me - I was in love. I proudly walked you - no, let's be honest - YOU dragged ME through the store...I have yet to correct that behavior. After I got your food and toys, the cashier said, "You got a good one!" He was right. Before the end of the day you had experienced my signature trait - losing things. I brought you to a park after the pet store, we got home, and I realized my phone dropped in the park we were playing at. I'll never forget how I made you retrace my steps. That's happened at least three times since - you've got a hell of a nose, hound. I always do enjoy watching you sniff and track - you've helped me stumble upon awesome sights - thank you.

You were my first - and will probably be my last - dog. I remember when I first got you, I expected you to just sit still on a blanket and play with toys. Such an amateur. Then I learned how you were scared of men. You wouldn't go near Bryan and hid under the bed barking. I remember calling my friend, Beth, and crying, asking what is wrong with you. I thought you were going to attack me! Five years later, and you still pull that same shit. Now I know it means you want attention and I should act like I'm finding you, and call your name until you come out wagging your tail. I love our cuddles. I always grew up with stuffed animals, but when I got you I was amazed at how cool it was to have a breathing furry animal next to me. You've come such a long way. Kind of, I mean, you're still scared of water ... and more recently, refrigerators, but that's why you're awesome. (Remember when you fell into my friend's pool and you were SINKING, so I jumped in to "save" you? Good times.)

You're not like other dogs - you're very intelligent and emotional - sensitive. I love how we grew into companions. You really were my best friend in my loneliest, darkest hours. You made my heart so much bigger and taught me to live in the moment. You reignited my awe of nature and were the best hiking and exploring buddy a girl could have. I always felt proud walking you down the street, not just because you're a handsome dog, but because you were my dog. I love that I could walk you through crowded streets and if toddlers come up to pet you, you'd sit and let them feel your face. You're so gentle. I appreciate how you rested your head on mine when I was sick or when you'd lick my hands and feet to show your appreciation. You always reminded me I was never alone.

I enjoyed how you protected me and showed me who I could and couldn't trust. You have great judgment of character. I'm certain your guard dog mode which transformed you from smooth haired and cute to ravenous, teeth bearing, hair standing wolf mode saved me from a few creeps. Thank you for barking and walking around me in circles when you felt I needed to be protected. Now, I'll have to hike and explore without you which means sticking to ordinary, heavy trodden paths. Thank you for never holding back your capabilities - you always showed me that you wanted to keep learning. Remember when I watched you unzip a backpack and open a closed door? Going back to cuddles, I'm seriously going to miss your long snout in my face. Your kisses were my alarm clock. I love how you like the morning and bust people's doors open to wake them up. I've made a mental note of that.

Hugo, you're a dog, so really, this letter isn't for you; it's for me. I'm super proud of the way I trained you and worked with you to become a no-bullshit, obedient, trusting companion. Thank you for helping me see what I'm capable of and for never letting me give up on myself - or you. I know your new home will be your forever home. And I know I'll see you again - wait for me to go to the other side, okay? Because I will be there, and you'll wag your tail or lick my cheek, and I'll say it's okay, and then you'll know it really is. Hugo Chavez, Boobs, Yugo, Boo - I love you.

Your Master,

Caitlin