An Ode To My Boys
Love inevitably leads to sadness when a great friend is lost. Allowing ourselves to start over is hard. But it's worth it.
Markets are fun. This is not that.
Papi
I’ll never forget the day my wife Amanda sent me a picture of my soon-to-be best friend. It was September 2014. I was running on a treadmill at a local gym. The elliptical machine she was using was directly behind me. Her text contained his picture at the shelter:
“His name is ‘Poppy’ but we could just change the spelling to ‘Papi’ like David Ortiz.” - Greatest Wife in the World
This was that picture…
I mean, c’mon, right?! His tongue almost fit in his head. We obviously had to meet this boy.
So we went to his shelter for our first encounter. He ran around in circles in a large school cafeteria-like room where the meet-and-greet took place. After he relieved himself of some pent-up energy, he relieved himself of something else as well; ‘Poppy’ went poopy on the floor in the corner of the room. A sign of things to come? Amazingly, no. He was only a couple months old at the time. And I can only imagine he was super excited to potentially be finding his forever home, surely we could let that accident slide!
Ten and half years later, the meet-and-greet was the only time he ever took a crap indoors. We adopted him on the spot, by the way.
Papi was remarkable.
The personality this dog had was incredible. Beyond instant friendship, he was dependable. And he was our boy. He loved us more than I ever could have imagined and he had a special bond with each of us; sibling to our daughter, nap time buddy to his ‘mom,’ and partner in crime to me.
There wasn’t a car ride he wouldn’t accompany me on. As long as he got to sit in the front seat…
There wasn’t a sunny day on God’s green earth when he wasn’t perfectly content just sitting on the deck while I plugged away on my computer or relaxed with a beer.
He loved being outdoors, chasing squirrels, watching my six when I mowed the lawn, walks through the neighborhood, and most importantly; going to the next door neighbor’s house to mooch pizza crust and hang out with his bestie ‘June.’
I could trust him to walk down the block or across the street without a leash. There was zero flight risk from this pooch - he knew where home was and he had no interest in leaving.
Though he loved his sister and mother very much, this was a man’s dog who had a man’s job. To say he ‘embraced’ his role as the protector of the house would be an understatement. Breathe on that driveway wrong, delivery driver, and you’d hear it from him. Judge of character? I’ve never found a better one. The barking was annoying at times - he would admittedly overdo it - but I always appreciated Papi for his instincts and his loyalty.
We were his family in every sense of the word even though he briefly had one before us - not of the human variety, however. When he arrived at that shelter over a decade ago, he was accompanied by 2 siblings from a 3-pup litter. I’m about 99% convinced he got to meet one of his brothers last summer.
In hindsight, I’m elated we had that moment. Never would I have imagined he’d be gone less than a year later. Papi passed a couple months shy of his 11th birthday. I’ve never cried so much in such a short amount of time in my adult life. He was that important to me and I loved him that much. I still do. To be honest, I really can’t put into words how great he was and what he meant to me.
This Thursday will be three full months since his passing. It still feels weird to me that he isn’t here. Seemingly deeply aware of my sadness, Papi’s best pup friend briefly took on the role of being my buddy.
June honored Papi’s legacy. I’ll always be fond of her for this and it has truly been special to me that she has been my little visitor through some of those lonely days. Amanda saw it too; noting that it was as if June was saying, “I’ve got him, Pap. Don’t worry.” But having a companion was just part of the bond. His personality truly was special.
I’ll miss the way he would give my daughter kisses for seemingly five straight minutes virtually any time she wanted them.
I’ll miss the way he’d be waiting for Dentastix by the kitchen cabinet after she’d gone to bed. Every. Single. Night.
I’ll miss the way he would go on jogs with me when he was younger.
I’ll miss the way his butt would get low to the ground when he’d run as hard as he could.
I’ll miss the way he played with his toys even at 10 years old.
I’ll miss the way he played in the snow.
I’ll miss the way he enjoyed going to my parents’ house and hanging out with his ‘aunt’ Penny.
I’ll miss the way he’d lick the leather sofa arm before laying his head down for the night.
I’ll miss how soft his fur was and how much he hated it when I’d pet him ‘too much.’
I’ll miss the way his feet smelled like Fritos when he needed a bath.
I’ll miss the way he drooled when breakfast sausage was on the kitchen table.
I’ll miss how he never jumped on people or counters.
I’ll miss how many words he knew the meaning of.
I’ll miss the way he would ‘talk’ to me when I’d ask him questions.
I’ll miss the sound of his bark.
I’ll miss the way he’d put his arm over mine when I’d lay next to him to pet him on the floor.
While I’ll miss all this and more, what I won’t miss was seeing how much pain he was enduring at the end.
Nevertheless, until the day I die, I’ll miss my boy.
Faith And Symbolism In Nature
In addition to Amanda, Maggie, family, friends, neighbors, and of course both June and Penny, what has unequivocally been monumental for me through grieving Papi has been faith. There were so many times when I questioned if we made the right decision. Was there more we could have done those last days? Should I have acted earlier when I knew in my gut something was off? During those times of doubt, I’d pray and ask beg for a sign from the man upstairs. I mean this; those prayers were answered each and every time.
As humans, we naturally look for patterns. Of course, there will be skeptics that I’ve connected random dots out of a desire for comfort. That’s totally fine and I don’t really care about convincing anyone. But I know the strange interactions I’ve had - specifically with birds - in the time since Papi left us have helped me along this process regardless.
Bird 1: Blue Jay - symbolic of resilience and spirit messengers of departed loved ones
Bird 2: Cardinal - symbolic of strength and rejuvenation. A sign of departed loved ones being with us
Bird 3: American Goldfinch - symbolic of renewal, acceptance of change, and peace
That last bird interaction was particularly amazing because it came the weekend we welcomed Vladimir to our home. The timing on a lot of this matters to me.
January: Papi starts to exhibit strong signs of illness, vet visits begin. Simultaneously, Vladimir is surrendered to an adoption service after four years with his original owner.
February: Papi’s health deteriorates and he is unresponsive to all treatment. On the 22nd, we set him free of his failing body. Blue Jay interaction follows. Vladimir hasn’t been adopted yet.
March: Loneliness. The house is clearly missing something. Terrible sleep most nights. Vladimir still hasn’t been adopted.
April: Cardinal interactions throughout the month. June reminds me how much I love having a dog around. A prior adoption candidate with Vladimir falls through. Amanda learns of Vladimir through work. And as she did when she found Papi more than 10 years prior, she pointed me to yet another big black dog who needed a home.
May: First of the month, we had a meet-and-greet with ‘Vladdy’ in our backyard. Vladdy gets his new home on the 3rd. Goldfinch interaction that same weekend.
I get it. To the non-believer it might be easy to be cynical about this and hand-wave it away as seeking out comfort through symbolism. Reality or not, faith has helped me get through this and I’ll take it. I’m cynical about nearly everything; Washington DC, Wall Street, academia, healthcare, and even most organized religion for that matter. But on faith, I’m not going to be cynical. I believe in my soul there was a plan at work here. God called Papi home. It was his time to be free. Vladdy, a 4.5 year old lab mix without a family, found a family without a dog. All of us grieving at the same time. Vladimir was supposed to find his true ‘forever’ family. And it's us.
Vladimir
There’s a lot we don’t know about young Vladdy quite yet. And there’s a lot he doesn’t know about us. That will all change in time. But based on what we’ve experienced so far, I can say Vlad is a total sweetheart. And he’s different from Papi in so many ways. Which is actually wonderful; none of us want a replacement. Because the truth is Papi simply can never be replaced. We want Vlad to be Vlad.
And I can already tell Vlad is a really great boy.
I love that Vladdy is into cuddling so much.
I love how he puts his head on my leg when he wants to be pet.
I love how Vladdy trots when he’s happy.
I love the way his ears are so soft.
I love how much he wants to go on walks.
I love that he’ll even go on walks with just his new mommy.
I love that Vladdy doesn’t beg for food.
I love how great he is with the neighbor kids.
I love how great he is with other dogs.
I love how he expected to sleep in the bed with us during his first weekend home.
I love that my daughter is happy we have a dog again.
I love how badly he wants to be June’s friend (give her time, Vladdy).
I love how much he already gets along with Penny and his ‘cousin’ Ruby (Maverick will come around, Vladdy).
I love that Vladdy is here.
Of course, there are moments when Vladdy looks sad. And who could possibly blame him? He had a completely different family of people for the first four years of his life - almost his entire life to this point. I’m sensitive to his separation anxiety. I understand why he’s currently acting like my shadow. I can’t imagine what it must feel like being surrendered. Unlike with Papi, we’ll never have Vladdy’s puppy pictures. Vladdy wasn’t there when Maggie was a baby. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still make great memories together.
With time, he’ll gain the comfort that he currently lacks. He’ll learn that we’re not leaving and we’re sure as heck not giving him up.
We love hard around here.
And Vladdy is my boy.
I love this post. It really captured your love for your dogs and their love for you. As always, very nicely put❤️