Sammy Bones

Dear Sammy,

I know you can't read this, but I love you. I saw a picture of you and Maggie today, and I thought, Wow… he looks so old. Your fur had more gray than brown, and your arthritic body was sharp and pointy. I wondered how soon it would be until I would have to say goodbye, until I heard the news that would ring from a whole state away.

And now as I sit here, the news fresh in my stomach, I can't help but remember the times that you pulled me around in the snow back in Maryland. From the home videos that I remember, it looked like a blizzard was ranging at the top of the hill I lived on, but doubt that either you or I cared. I wonder if I knew back then what the Iditarod was, and if I imagined that you were the trusty team that I needed to pull me through the snow, to lead you and me to victory, to prevail through the storm.

And next to me is a picture of the three of us, you, me, and Maggie. She looks so skinny, looking into the camera with a cocked head. Her brown eyes are one dimensional in the photo, but I know that in real life, they shine. Her white tail is puffed out behind her like a playful and innocent plume. Sammy, you're looking at me in front of you, your tongue hanging out, tail mid wag, and I can see that you're smiling.

I was about three or four when it was taken. My aunt gave it to me in a standup frame a year ago to decorate my room with. She printed out words and taped them to the picture. The top caption says, "JACI   SAM   AND   MAGGIE". And the off-center caption at the bottom proclaims, "REAL  BUDDIES!"

It's so corny. But I love it.

All I can really say now is that I'm going to miss you.