Nitro was my best friend. My shadow. My heart dog.
Seventeen beautiful years was not enough.
I adopted him as an adult from the Montgomery County Humane Society, and from the moment we locked eyes, I knew he was mine. But the truth is, he chose me. On the ride home he was so happy, like he knew he had found where he belonged. That was the beginning of us.
From day one he was my cuddler. Always pressed up against me. Always needing to be close. I will miss that more than anything, the quiet comfort of him curled against my side. I will miss his little feet tapping through the house, his sniffing, the way he would nibble on the blankets before finally giving me his baby kisses.
He loved the simple things. The lake. Watching people cruise by in their golf carts. Seeing other pups. Slow rides through camp. One last ride with the wind in his fur. He enjoyed his beef and cheddars and his chicken strips when that was all he would eat, and I would have hand fed him forever if I could have.
In the end his body was tired. The muscle loss made everything hard. He could not get in and out of the truck. Some nights he would wake up panicked and panting, and I knew he was hurting. Loving him meant letting him go with dignity and peace, even though it shattered me.
The house is quieter now. The routine is different. I still wake up and instinctively say, good morning Nitro. One morning I swear I heard a single bark back. Maybe it was just my heart, but I like to believe he was saying he is okay.
Today he comes back home. Not the way I ever imagined, but he is coming home. And he will always have a place here.
Nitro, thank you for choosing me. Thank you for every cuddle, every ride, every kiss. You were loved every single day of your life. I hope you knew that.
I miss you more than words can say. Always