Till Death Do Us Part
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Till Death Do Us Part

An open letter to a gal's best friend

11
Till Death Do Us Part
My House

If I said I got married long ago, many of you would sit in astonishment and gasp or probably utter some nasty little rumors under your breath. But yes, I have been married for approximately eleven years! It happened when I was in fifth grade going on to sixth grade.

My mom packed me and my sister up in the car and took us up to this little park. There was a lady there with a litter of German Shepard puppies. We played with the various ones as they ran, pit pattered and moved excitedly as people examined them to see which pup would be right for their family.

Then we saw him. I remember not liking him that much, he was the rough aggressive one, the one nibbling on the hems of your jacket, and running away with no remorse the one not afraid to strut in front of his brothers and sisters and stick his chest out, what little chest he had back then.

Additionally, he had six toes instead of five, a littler squeaky bark, and this black coat with little splotches of gold sticking out to remind you there was some good under his wildness. Mom said we would call him Roscoe.

I can’t recall exactly when we exchanged our first vows. I think it was the first night. Mom made you a coated laundry basket, but we snuck you under the covers of the bed and tried to hide you when mom came in. But our wriggling and little barks gave us away. Maybe it was the time you peed in the house, or stole socks from the laundry and ran or maybe it’s when you would take Cupcake’s chew toys and run. Maybe it was when you and Buster would slide under the gate and take casual strolls around the neighborhood while we frantically looked for you.

I don’t know the exact moment, but I remember long ago you gave me a vow to be my best friend, to comfort me after punishment and snuggle under me after a terrible whopping. You were great! You would never tell my secrets. Do you remember all the middle school gossip I would tell you? My diary just never gave as good of a response as you did. Do you remember the hot walks we would go on down Waldrop? Then you would pant and we would look at each other sit and share a bag of candy and bottle of Coke. Oh, how wonderful your greetings were. Whether I was coming from a track meet, a suspension or a month away at school it was always the same. The same two front paws on my chest, slimy hot tongue on my face as you pressed all your weight against me in excitement knocking me down.

I’m not going to lie, we often had some pretty bad arguments. But like any marriage we always got through them. Remember when you bit me for hitting Brittney? I still think you were overreacting, but as you put it I was too aggressive. Or the time that you looked me dead in the eyes then peed on the wall, sometimes you could just be evil. However, I could never stay mad at you because you would come back waging your tail, eyes happy and loving, showing that you meant no harm. You always had my best interest at heart. Remember when you almost snapped Julian’s finger off for trying to pet you? You never did like him. Or how thoughtful you were when you silenced your bark when I was returning from a party just a little too late.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry I couldn’t hold up my end of the vow, to be there for better or worse till death do us part. It kills me that in your weakest hour I am living it up 4,000 miles away. Today, I had to stop and remember our good times our bad times and honor you not for being the perfect dog, but for being the rambunctious little brother, the loyal best friend, the comforting pillow to cry on and the friend to vent to. You were everything I could have asked for, and I just wanted to let you know our relationship is until death does us part. You are my Where The Red Fern Grows, and I will never forget you or the influence you have had over my life. Thank you Roscoe. I Love You. and don’t worry I heard all dogs go to heaven.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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