The Cheetah Dog. My Cheetah. Cheetah Pita.
Chica was your name. Or as I’ve always called you, “Cheetah” believing that was the pronunciation. I think for my sake, you probably didn’t have a problem with me calling you that. We had a very unique relationship. At first, it was mainly involving food and treats. I would refill your food or drop scraps from the table and give you the dog treats. And you would look at me and presumably say, “Okay. You can be my friend.”
But, just like the other dogs, I became more than that to you. And you became more to me than a “friend”. You became a loved one to me. And I, a dog dad to you. When you had medical issues, I was there to help you. When you were sick, I would try to take care of you. And I’d take care of you, and everyone else, the best I could. And even recently, as they continuously gave you medicine, I felt so helpless that all I could do was wait and see. And hoped it would work. And when I came to the realization that it didn’t, and you would never be the same dog again, it broke my heart like never before. And I’m sorry my love. I’m sorry if that wasn’t enough to help get you through this final part.
I did everything I could because I loved you. I still love you now. And I’ll never stop loving you.
You were just sitting on my lap a week ago as I was holding you in my arms. Never did I dream you would be gone from me soon after. So fast. Never again will I see you under the table as I secretly snuck food to you and your sister. Never again will I hear you licking the air, or the floor, or other things with your tongue. Never will I see you asleep for most of the day, right next to me. Never again will you give me massages on my legs. Never again will I feel you trying to climb me to see what I have in my hands. I can’t believe I’ll never experience those things again. Ever.
So as I sit here, writing this with tears in my eyes, I’ll say this; I Love You Chica. My Cheetah dog. I’ve loved you your whole life. And I’ll miss you for the rest of mine.