On the Maynard (and the Belle)

That’s your name but I rarely, if ever call you that.  It’s usually Bear or Little Bear, Old Man, Little Old Man, Grandpa.  I’m convinced you’ve lost so much of your hearing at this point that it doesn’t really matter what I call you; Monkey, Monkey Bear, Money, Big Money.

May, May Bear, May May, Little May.  These last few are unfortunate and I apologize if they are emasculating in any way.  But the truth is son, you haven’t had testicles in years and you were raised for most of your life by a gay man (no offense, Sorke). 

It freaks me out that I have such affection for a dog.  You barely qualify as a dog brother – you’re my best friend.  I’ve already let the job know that when you pass I will be taking a leave of absence. 

I didn’t want you at all when you came into my life.  We had (1) crazy dog already who was spoiled rotten and there was no way that we could handle another.

I admit that I certainly didn’t want some geriatric, decrepit animal that I would have to deal with. And that is what I thought you were.  You came into our home though and made it your own – you even tolerate your neurotic step sister Belle.  You know that she doesn’t mean to step on your face when I get home every night.  She’s just excited, just like you, plus she has low self esteem I’m afraid. She hasn’t lived as much as you and she doesn’t understand how I could possibly show another attention.  She loves you though.  I see you two on Sunday afternoons nuzzled together on the couch and I know that you are both at peace and at home. I see you two chasing each other around the living room all the time. 

I know that today is going to be a dark day.  We knew it was coming but you’re never prepared.  I know that this day is going to be confusing for you and you’re going to wonder why I’m not there.  It’s confusing for me too bud and I’m a grown ass man.  But I promise we'll get through this.  I promise I’ll be back later today.  Enjoy your time at daycare and I will be there to scoop you up before you know it.  Give all of the big dogs shit like you always do. Don’t ever forget how much joy you give me when I see you running through this house. 

It’s just you and me now kid (and Belle of course).  It’s not you that she is leaving kids, it’s me.  I don’t have children – you dogs are my kids, and I would lie down in front of a train to make your life golden.  But grown folks cannot get their shit together sometimes…cannot get on the same page at the same time.  I’m sorry that I put you guys in this position but you will see her again.  At the very least every time I travel, she will be here to take care of you guys – so that’s at least once a week.  I know it’s not the same but we will figure it out together.  You will probably have to explain this all to Belle.  She’s pretty but she's not smart.  But hey, Fall is here now and I know how much you love crunching through dried leaves in the back yard. 

That’s something, right?

I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince that everything is going to be alright.  I’m not sure that it is, but I promise you I’ll keep buying your arthritis medicine.  And if you remember, I don’t have a sense of smell so you can get right in my face as often as you want to and give me all the puppy kisses you can because I have no idea how bad your breath really stinks.  (Though I hear it is epic!) I promise that, as long as you want to be here, you will be.  And I promise I will always be here for you.

I couldn’t be all that your Moms needed but I can at least be there for my dogs. 

I love you guys.