Nord
When I envisioned writing this, truthfully, I thought it was going to be a lot more of a joyous post…. because as Taylor Swift said, “It’s supposed to be fun turning 21.” But in this case, it’s 20.
I had it all planned out. I was going to write 20 things I accomplished before I turned 20, and it was going to be a remembrance of all my personal and glorious achievement to make myself feel better about the fact that I have no idea what the hell I’m doing with my life. But alas, here we are.
I turned 20, my dog died on my birthday, and thinking about all of the minor things I’ve accomplished with that shadow hanging over my head, isn’t really making me feel better about any of it.
Yes, in the grand scheme of things, 19 was a GREAT year for me. I did a lot, I saw a lot, and I learned a lot.
But instead of jotting down all the things that made my 19th circle around the sun so great, I want to remember my dog.
As people who are dog owners, in your head, you know you’ll outlive them. It’s common knowledge that they won’t be around as long as we are. But when the time comes to do the humane thing when they’re in pain and suffering, it’s like a punch to the gut. The wind feels like it got knocked out of you, the rug was pulled from under your feet. It’s your BABY, and you never thought this moment would ACTUALLY come.
A lot of people who have pets view them as what they are: Animals. But my family never saw Nord that way. He was the definition of a GOOD boy. He was loyal, and feisty, and he had a big personality. It’s funny to think that: a dog having a personality. But it’s true. Everyone who met him loved him. Even people who generally speaking, didn’t like dogs.
We got him when I was 10 years old. I was in fifth grade, and as a kid who had never really had a dog before, I was ecstatic. We drove 3 hours away to pick him up, and he was the only puppy in the litter that ran over to me. He was chunky, and he was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. It kind of felt like even though we chose him, he also kind of chose us.
You can ask anyone in my family, and they’ll tell you that dog loved me more than anything. That’s not cockiness either, that’s just a fact. My cousin sent me a text after we had to put him to sleep saying those exact words: “I feel like we grew up with him. And you know he loved you the most.” The feeling was mutual.
It was just a known fact that Nord was the most loved by all of us. I’d go up to my mom and say, “You don’t love me as much as the dog.” And whether she was kidding or not, the answer was always, “You’re right.” I didn’t even mind if she was serious.
When we took him home with us, it’s like our lives flipped over and completed. He was one of the kids, and I think there’s something so magical about growing up with a dog. He followed me through the end of elementary school, middle school, and all through high school. I have graduation photos with him. We grew up together. It wasn’t me as an adult and him as a puppy, or I wasn’t born when he was already well into his life. It was together, side by side figurin’ our own things out.
Nord was the kind of dog that made my dad’s “I hate little dogs,” stone heart melt. If that doesn’t scream at you the kind of joy he brought, nothing will.
When I was crying, he licked away my tears. When I cut an apple, he was right under my feet. When you said the word “bird,” he came running down the hall barking. Growing up in school, when we’d get home, he was sitting by the door waiting for us to walk in, just like clockwork. And whenever we left, he looked at us with eyes that said, “Where are you going? Don’t leave.”
A part of me now is so thankful covid actually happened because I got a whole year with my dog. A year of just 24/7 companionship. We have lives, always coming and going, but for dogs, we are their lives. That’s why we always feel so guilty leaving them. And that’s also why we have to be selfless when it’s their time to leave us.
I don’t want to talk about how on Thursday I was playing tug o’ war with Nord in the living room and then on Friday morning, I was driving him to the emergency vet. I don’t want to talk about the day after that; a day that was supposed to be good, and how it turned tragic. It hurts my heart a little too much. It’s still a little too fresh.
And as I’m writing this, on a plane, sitting next to a complete stranger, I’m really trying my hardest not to cry because I miss my dog. I got home from work earlier this week, and I walked in calling his name. And no one came running to the door. I didn’t hear his collar jingling or his nails tapping on the wood floor. It was so, so empty, and my heart sank. It was just me standing in the doorway of an empty house.
That’s the worst part. Feeling in your heart that their presence is gone. Coming home and no one’s there. Getting off work and thinking about how “I get to go home to cuddle with my dog now,” only to stop short and realize the reality of the situation.
I don’t know if I’ll ever read this post again after I post it— at least not anytime soon. And as silly as it sounds, I just don’t want my dog’s memory to die. I’d beat myself up too much if I forgot him.
So now this will forever live on my website. A place where Nord gets remembered.
Boppy Joe
Phillip
Scooby Doo
Scruffy Wuffy Doodly Doo
Little Man
The Riddler
Poodle Doodle
Nord
Nordy
You’re so strong and brave and handsome and white and fluffy and kind and…