Guest Post: My Sister's Tribute

I believe in cathartic exercises. In order for me not to suffer from serious mental repercussions down the road by not dealing with the death of my dog, I decided to write about her. I thought, since we already beat a dead horse by posting Abramovitz blog posts about Ginger all over the internet, what would it hurt to post my piece? I wrote this in an airport, with tears streaming down my face. Always classy. 

A Ginger Tribute:

I vividly remember that day.
The day I figured out dogs were more interested in licking my face than biting my hand off. It was a black lab named Sam, and I fell in love instantly. Frequent basement visits to cuddle and kiss his head followed. Pretty soon we moved, Sam stayed, and I started begging. Begging for a dog I could hold and love as my own. My little 8 year old voice finally broke down my parents resolve.

I vividly remember that day.
The day we drove to pick up the dog of my very own. It seemed to last an eternity, but she was worth the wait. Driving home I couldn't take my eyes off the chubby little ball of fur. And I fell in love instantly. She. Was. Crazy. She would chase me, biting my ankles and tripping me with her paw. She pooped under my chair while I was eating dinner one night. She grabbed a sandwich out of my hand before I could take a second bite. And I knew. She was the perfect dog for me. When she was cursed by my family members and sent outside, I would visit her. We walked together a lot, and somehow she always knew going to the bathroom while on a walk was a horrible idea. She had a shy bladder, just like me. In high school I was lonely. I felt non existent, unimportant, and unnoticed. But, when I walked through that door, I existed, was important to, and noticed by Ginger. While she was simply a dog, it was my dog: the dog who I fell in love with instantly, and who now loved me too.

I vividly remember that day.
The day I was heading back to Dallas. She was 14. It was Christmastime. And I knew. This was my goodbye. She had gone into the laundry room to drink water, so I waited. But she was always worth the wait. As I kissed her head for what I somehow knew was the last time, I cried. I cried because she was the perfect dog for me. I cried because it's impossible to say goodbye to the dog who I fell in love with instantly, and who I will love for the rest of my life.