Becoming Lost In The Memories Of A Long-Lost Best Friend

Some things are just never forgotten

As I sit in silence by my office window, I watch the falling snow gently kiss the glass pane. It is a tranquil scene that helps my mind begin to wander back to the days of old.

Overtaken by nostalgic memories of what once was, and will never be again.

It is at this moment that I think of her.

Missy, my long-lost childhood best friend.

Missy and I were always thick as thieves and went virtually everywhere together. The vast majority of my mixed-up and convoluted childhood was spent with her.

We loved to explore our natural surroundings.

Visiting the swollen and fast-moving creek that ran through our neighborhood. Testing the precarious banks in a quest to discover what new wonders nature would reveal on any given day.

Traveling to the family cottage in the summer and jumping head first into the crystal, clear lake. Furiously swimming our way out to the raft which sat like a solitary soldier in the distance. Beckoning us like a long-lost brother.

Playing together on the side of the road while nervously waiting for the dreaded, yellow school bus to appear.

Watching Missy run as fast as she could to retrieve the stick I had just thrown for her.

Yes… you guessed it. My best friend was a dog.

There can be little doubt that my childhood can be described as chaotic. It was characterized by a pattern of neglect and abuse. This created a shy, withdrawn, and anxious boy. I did not have many friends. I did not want many friends.

But I wanted Missy.

She was always happy and full of energy. Able to find pleasure and adventure in any situation under the sun. The simplest and most innocent things would be turned into a game for her.

For instance, at the time my family lived in a rural area and on a gravel road. There was not much traffic. However, if a car ever dared to go down our road, Missy would run to it and race it all the way down to the stop sign. She would then return to the house panting, and with her tongue hanging out. Already looking for the next fun-filled adventure.

Missy was the complete opposite of myself.

However, she taught me more than most humans ever had up until this point in my life.

She showed me what it meant to actually live. That everything in the world had great promise. To fight the bad and embrace the good. That joy was always there if we looked hard enough.

Can a dog really do all that?

You bet they can!

I am not going to sit here and pretend that I have always remained true to her lessons. Indeed, I have experienced a fair number of ‘hiccups” along the way. Be that as it may… I can never forget the pure, unadulterated joy and optimism that this beautiful dog projected.

Missy is my guardian angel with four legs. She still watches over me today, and I can feel her nuzzling into me when times get rough. Her spirit remains with me to this very day.

Sadly, Missy’s luck ran out 40 years ago. She chased one car too many in her little game of chase and got caught up under its wheels. My beautiful dog was no more.

I laid her to rest beside her brother who had passed a few years earlier.

I stood alone at her send-off. A memorial to my best friend.

I dug a hole and laid her to rest in the cold, hard ground. Her favorite blanket wrapped around Missy to protect her. The same way she shielded me all those years.

Toys were placed beside her rigid body to play with on her next journey. A reminder of the optimism and energy she instilled in me.

Treats for her in case she got hungry on the way. Giving back the sustenance of life.

My beautiful dog and guardian angel.

My childhood best friend.