Dog (That means Rolly)
Rolly was our friend.
It’s strange that he’s not around anymore. For fifteen, almost sixteen years, he tore around the house, licked our faces, barked at birds, and shared parts of our dinners. Rolly entertained us, and kept us company. He put up with me when I did strange things to him like scrunching down the skin on his forehead to make him look like a “mad pug,” or flapping his ears and calling him “bat pug.” We pushed his buttons a little bit sometimes, but only because his every reaction amused and interested us. We wondered what could possibly be going on in that little pug brain.
When we went away, Rolly really missed us, especially Daddy, the Big Dog. Our dad could never leave the room without Rolly getting up to go find him, and when Rolly couldn’t walk anymore, he whined when Daddy left. As such, they were almost never apart.
Now it is us who are missing Rolly. We won’t hear him barking anymore, that reminder that he was still here. And though he didn’t have a place at the table, we will notice the empty space on the floor next to us at mealtimes. When I think about Rolly, I just really want to pet him again. Even though I can’t, I am glad that I got to pet him and share his company so many times throughout the years we knew each other. I think he was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of friend. We will really miss him.
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