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Jul. 19th, 2025 09:07 pm
August, don't come!
My old lady was born in July of 2011. We didn't meet until she was about 3 months old, I guess, because my family drove out to somewhere in the IE to pick her up on my first day of seventh grade-- I remember that so clearly.
I think I wore this neon yellow/green(?) camisole under a sheer (?) flower print tank under some sort of cardigan. Layers were big! And I was 12 years old, but I felt so grown going into middle school. When I got picked up on that first day, my parents unconvincingly tried not to get me & my siblings' hopes up, but, well, we're going to go look at a puppy, just a look, we're not promising anything!
We were lookin at a lot of puppies those days. I think both my parents wanted one for us, even if they acted like they didn't, but our mother was very particular. She didn't want a dog, she wanted the perfect dog. And the perfect dog to her, thanks to a certain fella named Hercules from her past, was a Husky. Well, this puppy is half-Husky half-German Shepard, so most likely not up to snuff, but we went to see her anyway.
She was the runt of her litter, but we only met her and one of her brothers so I can't say for sure how far off the average she was. Her brother was freaking gigantic for a 3 month old puppy, and he had those big bee-sting paws that promise a big dog to come. He was also extremely energetic and unafraid. My old lady-- my young puppy? was shy and tiny. Her brother was the deep brown color of toffee or hard caramel. She was a lighter brown, a hot dog bun or a dinner roll or a perfectly toasted marshmallow. She was a little nervous to meet us, but she liked being held by us. Her brother liked biting and smacking us.
Thinking about it now, I don't remember if we came to see her specifically, or to see both puppies, or to see her brother specifically. But we left with her that day and no other dog, and I've thanked God who knows how many times for that in the past 14 years.
We stopped at a Petsmart or a Petco or Petwhatever on the way home to get everything we would need. Bed, food, treats, toys, I don't remember everything because I didn't go into the store with my dad. I was standing with my mom, trunk of my dad's Jeep popped open, ogling our perfect, adorable new puppy, sticking my fingers in her crate to get chewed and slobbered on. She was so soft! She was so small! It was a scorching day, I could feel the sun burning my arms and the back of my neck, but I didn't want to get into the backseat yet, not when I could keep staring at this little creature.
We named her Katara-- I barely remember the other names we considered. The only one I can recall with certainty was "Azula" because it would have been crazy to name such a polite little lady after Azula. Our cat, Daisy, didn't care for Katara at all, but then again she barely cared for any of us on an average day, so it wasn't too surprising.
Those very early days, I remember them so well. So many details engraved into my mind indelibly. I look at my old lady now, a much less toasted marshmallow with all her white fur, not so soft, not so small, and I wonder, what does she remember about her early days? does she remember the crate in my parents room she once slept in? does she remember how we put her water bowl beneath the kitchen table because she loved being beneath it so much? does she remember being so small she could squirm beneath the white picket fence in our backyard? does she remember how much i loved her from the very start?
My old lady was born in July of 2011. She is going to pass away in July of 2025. In just about a week, at the end of the month. When the month turns over to August, she will be gone from me. I don't want to forget a single thing about her.
Please, August, don't come!
I think I wore this neon yellow/green(?) camisole under a sheer (?) flower print tank under some sort of cardigan. Layers were big! And I was 12 years old, but I felt so grown going into middle school. When I got picked up on that first day, my parents unconvincingly tried not to get me & my siblings' hopes up, but, well, we're going to go look at a puppy, just a look, we're not promising anything!
We were lookin at a lot of puppies those days. I think both my parents wanted one for us, even if they acted like they didn't, but our mother was very particular. She didn't want a dog, she wanted the perfect dog. And the perfect dog to her, thanks to a certain fella named Hercules from her past, was a Husky. Well, this puppy is half-Husky half-German Shepard, so most likely not up to snuff, but we went to see her anyway.
She was the runt of her litter, but we only met her and one of her brothers so I can't say for sure how far off the average she was. Her brother was freaking gigantic for a 3 month old puppy, and he had those big bee-sting paws that promise a big dog to come. He was also extremely energetic and unafraid. My old lady-- my young puppy? was shy and tiny. Her brother was the deep brown color of toffee or hard caramel. She was a lighter brown, a hot dog bun or a dinner roll or a perfectly toasted marshmallow. She was a little nervous to meet us, but she liked being held by us. Her brother liked biting and smacking us.
Thinking about it now, I don't remember if we came to see her specifically, or to see both puppies, or to see her brother specifically. But we left with her that day and no other dog, and I've thanked God who knows how many times for that in the past 14 years.
We stopped at a Petsmart or a Petco or Petwhatever on the way home to get everything we would need. Bed, food, treats, toys, I don't remember everything because I didn't go into the store with my dad. I was standing with my mom, trunk of my dad's Jeep popped open, ogling our perfect, adorable new puppy, sticking my fingers in her crate to get chewed and slobbered on. She was so soft! She was so small! It was a scorching day, I could feel the sun burning my arms and the back of my neck, but I didn't want to get into the backseat yet, not when I could keep staring at this little creature.
We named her Katara-- I barely remember the other names we considered. The only one I can recall with certainty was "Azula" because it would have been crazy to name such a polite little lady after Azula. Our cat, Daisy, didn't care for Katara at all, but then again she barely cared for any of us on an average day, so it wasn't too surprising.
Those very early days, I remember them so well. So many details engraved into my mind indelibly. I look at my old lady now, a much less toasted marshmallow with all her white fur, not so soft, not so small, and I wonder, what does she remember about her early days? does she remember the crate in my parents room she once slept in? does she remember how we put her water bowl beneath the kitchen table because she loved being beneath it so much? does she remember being so small she could squirm beneath the white picket fence in our backyard? does she remember how much i loved her from the very start?
My old lady was born in July of 2011. She is going to pass away in July of 2025. In just about a week, at the end of the month. When the month turns over to August, she will be gone from me. I don't want to forget a single thing about her.
Please, August, don't come!
