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My best friend died 3 weeks and 2 days ago and it feels like it just happened yesterday. Despite her being a 15 year-old dog when she passed, it still felt like 15 years was too soon. It still seemed as though she was a puppy and we still had decades of life to live with each other. I feel robbed. And I’m angry. I’m angry at time moving so quickly. I’m mad that the time I spent with her is over and that now, instead of celebrating the years together, I’m counting the days without her. It’s all moving so fast.

It’s been 3 weeks and 2 days and I’m already forgetting. I’m forgetting my best friend of 15 years. And when I look at the old pictures, of when she was 3 months old, 1-year old, 5 years old, etc., it feels so long ago as if it was a different time or even a different dog in a different life. I can’t hold on to her memory tight enough. I know there will be a day when I won’t be able to remember her bark, or I won’t be able to remember how it feels to have her on my shoulder. Worst yet, I won’t be able to remember how she sounded in my ear, or how she felt on my chest, when she breathed her last breaths. How do I know I’ll forget? Because I’m struggling to clearly remember the first day we met. I can’t even remember how red her hair was before her first puppy cut. I only know in my mind that it was red, but I can’t really picture it in my mind.

Oh time, I’m still mad at you. I’m mad at me for having lost whatever quality we all had as children that somehow slowed you down, but at the end of the day, I’m still mad at you. Your speed brought me here – to a day where my best friend is gone and not coming back. All I can do is keep moving forward with you. But I’m still mad.