Where do I even start?

If you met me before I met Marco and had told me how our life would unfold after the adoption, I would have told you that you were crazy. I was nothing more than a lost dude looking for a spark. Growing up, I had a few dogs, so I thought it would be easy, that I was ready. I wasn’t. But he was.

I wasn’t ready for him to come over for a trial night and for him to IMMEDIATELY find every treat I’d hidden in the house. But he was.

He was home.

I wasn’t ready for him to tear up my backyard within a month. But he was. He was home and could finally run…plus there were squirrels — lotsof them.

I wasn’t ready for our daily walks and my daily prayers that he wouldn’t go to the bathroom in the house. But he was.

He crapped everywhere (and knew he’d get away with it).

I wasn’t ready to lose both of my couches to him. But he was. He missed me, and the message had to be loud and clear.

I wasn’t ready to have a dog depend on me to live. But he was. He showed me I could do it.

I wasn’t ready to be confused that I couldn’t speak with my best friend. Trust me, I’ve tried. He was ready, though. He showed me all that could be said without saying. 

I wasn’t ready to have my life flipped upside down in a million different ways (are any of us?). But he was ready. He knew he’d be my rock. That we could do anything together - maybe not right, but definitely together.

I wasn’t ready to watch him grow old. To see his run turn into a jog and turn into what can only be described as a weird shuffle. To see his beard turn gray. To watch him sleep 23.5 hours a day (the other half hour is reserved for food, of course).

But he’s been ready all along.

He’s shown me how to love. How to live. How to appreciate sitting next to a sprinkler on a hot day, listening to the birds. He taught me patience. 

Most importantly, how to love myself - all with that big head and somehow more enormous mouth.

His last lesson will be the hardest - how to let go. I’m not ready — not today, not tomorrow, not when we have so many stories to tell.

But I know I’ll be ok, because Marco is leading the way. 

You haven’t met Marco … except you have. If you have a pet - dog, cat, rat, or anything in between - you know the strength of that silent bond. The long walks. Couch cuddles. Beach days. Life slowed down, and lived as as intended.

So, now that you’ve met Marco, can I meet your friends?