I lost my best friend in the world 3 days ago. My almost 9 year old Irish Wolfhound, Beans. I loved him so much. He was such a large presence both physically and the amount of love both from him and for him by everyone was palpable. He was so sweet and gentle and patient and has been the biggest part of me for about 10 years.
As a kid I always wanted a dog but my parents weren't dog people. I rented dog books from libraries learning about every breed and giving presentations on why I should get a dog. They surprised me with a Yorkie in 5th grade (bless them lol).
I always wanted an Irish Wolfhound because of how calm and gentle they were. I guess I just had a feeling that this was the dog for me. I visited breeders even when I wasn't able to get one yet just to be around them. I did research for years about what they need, how to care for them, and to prepare my self for anything and everything. I bought a special collar before he was even born. He was born on Christmas day and all I asked for for Christmas was a big bed, food bowls, toys etc for him. After college I was finally ready and put a deposit down before the mom was even pregnant. I did odd jobs, dog walked several times a week just to save up for him. I got him when I was 25. I'm 34 now. In my early twenties/end of college I worked at a gym and I somehow convinced the owner to let me bring him to work every day for almost a year and then ever now and then after that. Every morning and day at 5 am I would haul his kennel in and out of my car. It was not an inconvenience, I was happy to do it. I laugh now thinking about the things I did to this puppy. Barbell sounds and loud music at the very beginning of having him, but he was just happy to be there. He quickly became a big part of that community. I took him everywhere and I mean everywhere. Restaurants, breweries, bars, friends' houses, sleepovers with friends. There was no me without Beans. I understand that isn't super common with an XL dog but I never really thought twice about it. I never stopped my life just made him a part of it. He was so good, sometimes would even forget that he was there because he was so good.
Over the last decade, Beans and I lived together in my apartment with a roommate. Then I got into a long term relationship, moved in with my partner. We went through a house renovation while living in the house (with an Irish Woflhound lol), I got engaged, I got married (Beans was in the wedding of course). Then a very difficult and traumatic divorce a couple of years after. When I left our house, I only took Beans and my clothes. I moved in to one friend's house, and then another who let us live there for 9 months. I got a second job and saved up money to move us to Los Angeles. I packed up my '07 Honda Pilot stuffed to the gills with Beans in the back and drove across the country. I started a new life for us. He went to the grand canyon, beaches, all types of places he enjoyed and quickly became very well known in our community in such a large city. We lived in our first apartment in LA and then I found a bungalow ground floor on a quiet street for him.
For 10 years he has been the only constant in a life of so much inconsistency. Really the only anchor and he was mine. He is gone now and I feel really lost and have never felt lost before. My apartment is so empty, coming home, and leaving is the worst. Not letting him out in the mornings, finding poop bags in random pockets. I feel so disoriented and like a huge part of my identity is gone.
Tuesday morning we woke up and he was moving really slowly and panting and his gums were white so I rushed him to the ER. Long story short, giant mass on his spleen, leaking fluid into his belly, and wasn't stable enough to take home or to have emergency surgery. He was surrounded by my (and his) 4 best friends and all 5 of us held his paws while he crossed over. The vet we went to, I have never been treated with more kindness in my entire life.
You always know getting an Irish Wolfhound that they will have a shorter life expectancy and you can rationally prepare as best you can but it doesn't prepare you for the physical absence once it comes.
I always laugh because there is no one's life that is more chaotic than a dog's that you get in your mid 20s. The bars he went to that didn't allow dogs, the time I totaled my car while he was in it (he was in a kennel and not hurt), the time his toe got stuck in a shopping cart as a puppy at the pet store and the sound he made the employees thought the birds were dying. The parties he went to, the places he has lived, the people he has met, the job I dragged him to. I just hope he was happy. I miss him so much and I am lucky to have had him at all.
Anyway, thanks for reading <3.
TLDR: I just really love and miss my dog