Losing a Best Friend

Poopseph 

When I was 8 years old, my dad brought home this little poofball of pure love. My sister and I got to name him, so we called him Boomer, after a little dog we had met at a local pet store. Now, I forget his name was ever Boomer because he had the world's longest list of nicknames; Booseph, Poo Bear, Poops, Monkey, Boozie, Boo, Poo, you name it. If it had Poop in it, we probably called him that. My favorite of the bunch was Poopseph. So, to me, that was his real name. And you had to say it with just the right amount of lisp or it just wasn't right. 

I have many hideous, awkward stage, pictures with my Poopseph. I mean, 8 years old feels like another lifetime ago, and it basically was. He went through his awkward haircuts as well, but he was always a cutie. I even had him when I thought having a comb over for bangs and making this face was cute. And he still loved me. A lot.

Who else would let my sister and I put extensions in their hair and give them an alfalfa do?

Poopseph was my absolute muse, clearly. I had an abundant amount of Poo pictures (there are never too many), all of which I believe to capture the cutest thing in the world. 

Scraggle muffin cutie.

<3

Or the silliest thing in the world. Maybe Poopseph was an alien, using his outer space tricks to capture our hearts forever and make us unable to deny him cheese. 

I love this picture, and all its silliness, for obvious reasons.

How could you be mad at this face? This was immediately after I caught him going through my trash can. And all I could really do was laugh and pull out my phone for a picture. 

Snuggled up after a seemingly traumatizing bath. 

Poopseph in all his "swag" glory. He just reminds me of a rapper in this picture. I don't know why, but it makes me laugh.

Oh, and he could talk too. My mom was telling him a story here and I caught his OMG reaction. I wish I could remember the story now, but that's not the point. 

Poo Bear was my mom's absolute favorite friend. And her hurting now hurts me too. I have been wanting her to get a new dog, to make her feel better, but she was adamant about waiting because it just wouldn't be the same. So then I was desperately wanting to get my own dog with my boyfriend, and we even put a deposit on one. We decided it wasn't the right time, with our busy schedules and lack of a backyard, so after losing our TWO HUNDRED dollar deposit (ouch) we decided on maybe getting a kitty baby instead. And I am glad, because Poopseph isn't replaceable. So chances are, after clinging onto the thought of a new dog, I would get it and still be sad about losing my childhood dog. (Duh! Silly me.) 

He was more than a dog to her. He was like her little son. Which made him my little furry brother. On top of my own sadness, my heart breaks for her because I know how hard it was, and is, on her. It must feel strange to not have another living creature always at your feet and acting as your shadow.

:P

Who is going to help me study now? I just can't do it without someone laying on top of my books and papers. Seeing the entire book is overrated. 

Or try their best to steal cheetos from me, again while I'm trying to study?

Or give me this look while I'm eating my bread bowls? 

Or go on night time rides with my mom and I just because? Looking like the most adorable passenger ever.

Who is going to answer my phone for me when it's someone I don't want to talk to now?

And who the hell am I going to make these wonderful works of art on!?

And I know nobody will stick their tongue out at me when I'm in the wrong now. Nobody. 

Poopseph completed our little trio of women. He was our main man, and only man, for so long! I literally do not remember a life before him, which pains me everyday when I come to the sad realization of what I never wanted to be true; not having him. I heard a quote somewhere that I loved, "One life is enough for anyone. But there are so many lives within that life" and I totally agree. 

Why have we not come up with some solution to make dogs live forever?! I want Poo in every life within my life, dammit. If I win the lottery one day, I will try to make this happen.

These are some of the last pictures I have with our best friend. I must say I am happy he hung in long enough to see me graduate from Davis. He was with his girls through so many life events and I consider myself lucky we got to add another one to the list. 

I like to think my Poopseph is happy now, doing all the laying, playing outside, and eating cheese/cheetos his little heart desires. Although we are now in pain even being in this same apartment with so many memories, I am glad he isn't in pain anymore. I would take the sadness over his physical pain any day. I have lost many things, and I must admit losing Poo is one of the hardest things I have had to do. It may seem silly, but having a companion for 15 years, and losing it in a matter of a week, is tough. After all, a dog truly is a man's best friend.