Remembering stories of joy and companionship while holding the grief and loss of our sweet dog.
It was November 2007 and my pregnant belly made the perfect shelf as I sat in a plastic chair in the adoption area. I held a miniature dapple dachshund puppy as it snuggled and wriggled against my chest and licked my neck. My two-year-old daughter was barely able to contain her excitement. She kept jumping up and down and the sparkles in her pink outfit would flash in the incandescent lighting. I remember thinking that this was a wild decision. It must be the pregnancy hormones!
But in reality it was the perfect thing to do.
I had a lot of doubts about being a mom of two. Caring for a demanding puppy would prove to myself that I could do it when our next little one arrived in April. And little Mary needed a companion for those times when I was nursing the new baby or busy with diaper changes. Woofie became just that.
My husband Jim named him Wolfenstein after one of his favorite ’90s video games. It sounded very fierce which was quite hilarious when compared to this tiny wiggly bundle of excitement. He had a cowlick on the back of his neck which gave him a tiny Mohawk where his hair went in the opposite direction. When he was a puppy his ears were so big sometimes they drug on the floor. It took months for him to grow into them.
I distinctly remember bringing him home and setting him down in the grass in the backyard for the first time. He high-stepped, sniffed around, looked at us very concerned, and then realized that he could gallop around the yard. After some high-speed laps around the tree in the backyard he laid down in a patch of shade exhausted. Mary and I were laughing so hard we had to sit in the grass with him to recover.
That winter I potty trained my two-year-old and my puppy and proved to myself that I was going to be able to handle adding another child. As our family continued to grow he helped me calm my doubts and welcome each new baby to our family.
A few years later when I was on bedrest with my third he was my snuggly companion. Happy that I was resting on the couch or in bed, he took his job seriously as my sentry and I enjoyed keeping him close.
One of my favorite things about Woofie was that he always wanted to be where we were. I’ve always kept track of where he was and included him. Being a stay-at-home-mom and then a homeschool mom meant that we have spent a significant amount of our days at home. He had special spots in the kitchen, the living room, the school room, and slept next to me in bed. If the kids were playing in the backyard he would be there patrolling the perimeter. And of course anytime we were at the table he was underneath the high chair waiting for something to drop. Reading bedtime stories or watching movies he would be snuggled in a blanket with us.
No matter what we were doing he wanted to be a part of it.
17 years is a long time for life to unfold and change.
Woofie has been there for all of it. As my kids have grown he has picked favorites over the years to snuggle with and stay close to.
He has been our constant companion through all of these years of change and building this life that we all love.
There is so much in my home and in our lives that reminds us of him. My office corner is now missing his dog bed and his spot on the couch is still empty.
Walking the path of grief and healing after a loss is layered and complicated.
I wrote about that more in this post:
Even though it has been difficult to say goodbye to such a loyal companion I am still profoundly grateful for the joy he brought to our family.
So in this season I am doing my best to hold many kinds of emotions and let them rise to the surface. I am choosing kindness with myself and my family as we process our loss. And I let myself cry when it all becomes too much.
🩵 – April
