#But it is a good hour or two be hind where I've been sleeping

[icemankazansky]

When I was 21 years old, I met the best friend I'll ever have. I had my own place for the first time in my life, and for the past several months, I had been looking for a dog. My first dog that was just mine. I had gone to shelters and adoption events, and I had seen plenty of dogs. Adults and puppies, all different breeds, big and small. I didn't have any specifics for my new pet. But nobody I met had felt right.

One day, Nina and I walked into the puppy room at Young-Williams, a place we had been many times before that summer. And inside one of the pens was this little, jet black baby Anubis, a tiny, eight-pound puppy with big bat ears and long legs. He saw me, and he hopped up on his hind legs and jumped over and over, his forelegs extended.

He chose me.

Nina and I took him into the meet and greet room to spend more time with him, but in truth, I knew immediately: That little baby Anubis was MY DOG.

For the next 16 years, he was my constant companion, my copilot, my confidante. He was my shadow; we went everywhere together. When I moved to Savannah for grad school, moving further away from home than I'd ever lived, a city where the nearest person I knew was seven hours away, Oz was with me. We lived in a little apartment two blocks from Forsyth Park, and we learned the city together on long walks on cobblestone streets. When I was sad, he comforted me. When I was happy, he shared my joy. Anytime I reached out, he was there beside me.

Oz left me on Thursday evening. He stayed as long as he could. I did my best to give him a good sendoff. We had sushi in the park on his last day. He was tired, and I held him as he went to sleep, telling him how much I loved him and thanking him for choosing me and for loving me and for spending his life at my side.

I am sure Kif met him on the other side of the rainbow bridge. I feel like a part of me is missing. I feel like I've returned from a long, interstellar trip only to return to a planet that is nothing like the one I remember.

I would do it again. Knowing that I would end up like this, in this much pain, I would do it again. I would choose him every time. In every scenario, in every possible reality, I would choose him every time.

Oz

March 15, 2007 - July 6, 2023

[intheseautumnhands]

it's baaaaack