The unconditional love of a dog is a love uncomparable to that of the love between human beings. They don't talk back (OK, they may bark...), they are always happy to see you and they are content with your company lying on the couch, playing catch or just watching you write a blog on your laptop.
I find myself very lonely at times, missing the unconditional love I once had. I find myself almost in tears when I see dogs on television, on the street or in a magazine or newspaper. I miss my little buddy. My companion when I had no one else to confide in, no one else to kiss or hug, and no one else to just cuddle with after a hard day.
You may be wondering what happened, and why I no longer have "my" dog. My ex (aka Douchebag) bought him, trained him and reared him. I simply just loved him, and took care of him as part of my responsibilities whilst living with Douchebag. We would take our morning walk, flying down the stairs and onto the puppy sidewalk, chasing the stray cats into the bushes and watching the cars pass by on their daily commute. We would eat breakfast together, I'd head into the bathroom to begin my morning routine and he would lay in the doorway as my body guard. I'd trip over him daily, not learning that he would always take a mid-morning snooze at the threshold.
Nevertheless, when Douchebag and I parted ways, I begged for partial custody but had no means of taking him to court, since in fact, legally, he was his dog. I was allowed visitation rights whenever I wanted to make the treck up to see him, but it would always end up in a fight and eventually I realized in order to move on from that aspect of my life, I had to give up my Puppy Love. The only man that could make me feel like a million bucks when I was in tears and the only man that understood exactly what I was feeling and thinking every time I looked in his eyes.
He was my protector. He was my little boy.
In essence, I lost part of my family the day I moved out. I was more torn about leaving my puppy and thinking that he would think that my absence was his fault. I tried to best explain to him that Daddy and I didn't love each other anymore and that I would try my hardest to see him all the time if Daddy would allow it.
I had contemplated many scenarios of dognapping in my head and even devised a plan with my hair stylist, but nothing ever came to fruition. Nor would I have even tried, I'm not THAT crazy.
I miss him.
I miss his cold nose on my hand in the morning. I miss his frustrated sighs when he was trying to get my attention. I miss him sticking his head in my laundry and stealing my underwear and bras. I miss him laying on my pillow after I got up from the bed. I miss him leaning on the back of my legs when I cooked dinner. I miss the look of innocence when he would rip apart a toy within 5 minutes of having it. I miss him tilting his head to listen to me. I miss him barking at Douchebag for yelling at me. I miss him thinking he's a bird and trying to catch up with them as they flew (usually dragging me at the other end). I miss him sneezing all over my car window after I JUST washed it. I miss him thinking he is a lot smaller than 100lbs and trying to squeeze through small places and trying to curl up on my lap. I miss him running to the door and trying to stop but instead would fly right into the unsuspecting victim. I miss him holding down my feet when I would do sit-ups. I miss his head in my lap when I would drive him "home."
I originally saw Marley & Me, ironically on a plane to Vegas, to begin my "Girls Only" vacation. The trip I booked to celebrate my singlehood and to forget about Douchebag and the puppy I wasn't allowed to see. I was trying very hard not to watch, since, well, I knew what was going to happen. I was not prepared to cry on an airplane full of strangers and there was no way I was going to put a damper on the first 6 hours of my vacation. But, I couldn't resist Marley's cute face and the way he reminded me so much of my puppy. I was sucked in. The scene with Jen Aniston with Marley's head in her lap completely emcompasses and describes Puppy Love.
John Grogan: A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if your rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?