The hardest thing I've ever had to do is say goodbye to you...
Travis Christian Turner
Sunrise December 24th, 2006 - Sunset August 30th, 2019
How the hell do I gather the strength to say goodbye to you? How the hell do I come to terms with the fact that our journey together is over? There is no blog, no book, no podcast, and no conversation with friends and family that can properly prepare a person to say goodbye to their most constant companion. My guy. My main man. My Trav.
You came into my life when I was confused but focused—lonely, but driven to find community and accomplish goals. I was a sophomore in a private university that was a socioeconomic status or two above what I was used to kicking it with. You were my teddy bear. You let me come home and let my hair down…and squeeze you. You let me vent, and you never judged me. You loved being sous chef when I chopped veggies, and my kitchen will definitely miss the built in vacuum. And just as you were quick to steal the pieces of carrot or celery I dropped on the floor while cooking, I was quick to clean up whatever surprise dump you dropped where you probably weren’t supposed to. You ferociously barked at all the shady people who entered my life, and I wish I had listened more. I wish I could dap you up one last time for always having my back and best interest at heart (…cuz maybe the squats from cleaning up piss lifted my cakes a little…lol).
Thank you for finding your bark that one day and becoming my personal security guard from that day forward. Thank you for weeding out the weaklings and flexing your opportunism to stunt on these mugs. Thank you for rocking all the dope outfits I made you wear, (including the snow boots you were majorly not fucking with…because you would try to lose one on purpose every walk) and thank you for posing for photos in sunglasses…I’m sorry that I’m basic a little…
Based on the fucks that I know you to give, it is imperative to live life to it’s fullest and to take what you feel entitled to. If you see steak, take steak. If you smell pork, plot to acquire the whole damn chop. Boss up…and own it. Demand that raise at work. Don’t be afraid to defend yourself. You were never more than 15 pounds, yet and still you flexed your muscles in front of dogs and humans up to 15 times your size. We should all strive for that level of brave. You wanted what you wanted, and you usually acquired it accordingly…regardless of how it affected others…because thug life.
But behind the asshole was the most loyal soul. Just like that partner people have or had who is one way around their friends and the perfect companion behind closed doors, you were the king of quality time…which translates as time spent feeling each others body heat. You were known for sleeping next to a thigh, laying next to a foot, and licking a toe if any lotions or body butters were involved. The foot fetish was real. When I sat on my bed and wrote in my journal, I could usually feel your fur or heartbeat. You wanted it that way.
The first time you saw me sneeze, you jumped in my lap and put your paw on my chest. The first time you saw me come home crying from a voice lesson meltdown, you licked my tears. You always gave me the “get your shit together” face when I looked defeated or hungover, and you taught me to find joy in little things. And let’s be real, I’ll never know another being to get THAT excited when a window is opened…(something about the breeze…)
You know what I loved most? Figuring out how to give you everything when I had almost nothing—going into debt to show you the country you were born in (and maybe sneak you to Canada here and there). I wanted you to see the elements, feel the wind in your hair, and lay in the grass. I will never regret investing in fancy snow suits so you could enjoy being a puppy in fresh snow without freezing to death. I loved watching you bounce around with joy. I’m still kicking myself for never taking you to Yosemite, because I know it would have been your favorite.
My sadness is justified because I lost my main man, but to be honest, you lived a pretty dope life. From dog parks to day care to pup roommates to vacations all over the states in hotels and beyond, you saw as much as I could show you, and if I had the means, I promise I would have shown you even more. You deserved the best, and not a life where your basic faculties were barely functioning. It broke my heart to see you scarf down human size meals and retain none of the nutrients. It hurt to wake up to your dry heaving or watch you fall on your way to your water bowl. That’s not life. I couldn’t bear to witness you struggle when you were the one who taught me how to feel joy in my darkest moments. I will love you forever for always humping a local pillow or foot to lighten the mood…
I don’t fully know how to articulate my unconditional love for who you were in this life, but maybe I scratched the surface? This is hard. When we first met, I had no idea what my life would look like…I wanted you to one day run around the backyard of my first house or give welcome to the world barks to my first born child. And I wanted you to bark at me forever. (I enjoyed our convos where you always had to have the last word). I will miss the sound of your chain roaming around the home and your little paws on the hardwood floors…and I will especially miss the walk you do when rocking those adorable snow boots. You were so much of my life for such an important part of my life…and I can’t thank you enough for your companionship.
Humans are the only idiots to adopt pets that will not outlive them, but choosing you was the best decision I’ve ever made. You challenged me to do better, be better, and strive for the best to provide for my family. I can’t thank you enough for the joy and laughter you sparked throughout our journey, and I will miss you everyday. You are with me always and I will love you forever. Thanks for barks. Thanks for kisses. Thanks for sharing popcorn with me. Thanks for letting me hold you like a baby. Thanks for unconditional love.