Before I met you

You were the tiniest little wee thing anyone could have see when I first met you. I was so nervous about dropping you or pushing on your pudgy milk belly as your mommy looked at me so proud of her work. 

The lady who gave you to me smelled like sea salt. Kind eyes and what once was raven hair now speckled with bits of grey. She asked me a series of questions to make sure I wasn't a crazy person and that I wouldn't hurt her babies babies. Rest assured the only hearts that would be broken would be mine if I ever lost you. 

I remember before I met you I had told my mom I was so lonely and the only friends I had or worth a damn we're a million miles away. I worked a job that was good enough for me to have a fur child. So I could be home to put you to bed and be home for when you woke up. 

I remember buying all the books on your breed and making sure I bought the right foods and wanted to make sure you were safe and warm. I remember reading a book about how some people come back as dogs so they can teach humans how to love. 

You drove me nuts but even after the first week I fell in love with the snoring at night and how when you got cold you would nudge me awake to get underneath the covers and lay between my legs. I didn't care despite my back always hurting because now an empty bed feels so entirely weird to me. 

Everytime I cry you always have this look on your face as though you are asking me "mommy what's wrong" or when I am so upset I'm about to leave the house. You never fail to come up to me while I put my shoes on and seemingly ask me telepathically "can you take me with you?" And I just become this massive puddle and scoop you up in my arms and put you in my car, take you to a park to play and then let you nap in the car. 

Life is so weird thinking about the possibility of you not being in it and I don't want to think about that. But I do know how much I love you and that I am forever grateful that you healed my heart when I needed it the most. 

Your sappy human mommy-