I had started writing a post about a month ago about my life and dogs but it was getting long and maybe I just needed to write down for myself my friendship with my first dog. My family had put my very first puppy down during the first part of July. It was really heartbreaking. It was sad to watch him try to be so loyal and such a good dog but just be dying on the inside. He went to doggy heaven (I seriously believe he'd be a great candidate...) very peacefully and the suffering was over. It was strange. I still want to see his head and pointy ears pop up in the window when I drive into my parent's driveway. Shyloh was a wonderful first dog to have, especially when for most of my life up til about the age of 14 I had a great fear of dogs. Like not going on school field trips because there was going to be a dog where the class was going to pick apples. (sidenote: not a huge fan of apples either...). Like having to step outside of class when kids brought their new puppies for show and tell. Not attending birthday parties, having kind parents shove their dogs in other rooms or outside while I was around. Luckily babysitting and a stupid dog got me over the fear. And then there was Shyloh. Kayla and I signed a proposal to get him. He was wonderful. We missed him so much when we went away to school. My friend Karen always called him Shadow. He didn't mind.
So, all I'm trying to say is that I'm thankful for a dog that made me forget my lifelong fear and basically I'll always miss him.
