Stitch

“If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.” - David Ellsworth  
   
   
You were not meant to be ours yet you managed to squeeze your way into our hearts. With your floppy ears and sweet eyes, you were a pretty puppy, though the world sees you as vicious. A dangerous pitbull. You were supposed to stay just for a while until someone adopts you; we already had four furry white dogs.  
   
You probably knew this was home.  
   
For a while you had no name. Were you Elizabeth? Beth? But with dad and his humor, you ended up having the best name. Stitch Ezenburns. A mix of the Disney alien as hyper as you and that Fra Lippo Lippi song that I only know the chorus of.  
   
You loved to stay in the kitchen. You loved to bite and eat anything and everything. I guess that put you in trouble, too. You stayed in the kitchen when I cooked or washed the dishes, and squeezed with me into a chair too small for the both of us. And when my dad would say so, you'll run towards me quickly as I sat, you jumping on my back and biting at my hair or the pink clamp I use to hold it together.  
   
You bit into my ear once, wounding it. I was crying and you followed me to the bathroom, licking my leg in apology. You were a sweet creature, with all your bulk and big paws, you were my baby girl as you cuddled into my side and slept.  
   
Now you're gone.  
   
Our family sat at dinner like usual tonight. Yet there were no noises from you, no heavy head resting on random feet or thighs. No more looking into your pleading eyes.  
   
And tonight as I made my way upstairs, I really wanted to see you there. Sleeping soundly by my door. I wait for the sounds of your heavy body leaning against the wood. A little yawn, a little yip, another bark from you. Little footsteps. Your tail knocking on the door. But you're gone.  
   
And in the darkness, I think of how tomorrow morning, no one would jump on me then go under my dress to butt-sniff anymore. No more you bursting through my bedroom door to pounce on me and run around like a mad dog. No more licking, and cuddles, no petting, no more singing to you, Stitchy-badu-dam, bibbidi bobbidi boo.  
   
Ah, if only love could've kept you safe...  
   
I remember every late night where I had to go downstairs and took the chance to pet you. I remember sitting with you by my door as I cried when things got heavy and you only laid your head on my lap quietly. I remember running around the house with you. I remember the tilt of your head, like you were curious about something. I remember the feeling of your short brindle colored fur - strange to me - as I pet you or laid my head on your body. I remember being alone in this house with only you and our other dogs as company. I know they remember, too.    
   
I see the bite marks on my hair clamps, the scars from the scratches your nails made because they always grew too long and you were the most enthusiastic dog. We were talking just a few days ago about how high your jump would be once you're fully grown. How you'd be taller than mom and me.    
   
It broke my heart to see those long limbs, those floppy ears, that energetic spirit just reduced to that form in a box from the hospital. Lifeless. I would never see your eyes again. It broke my heart when I touched you because you were no longer warm.
   
If only love could've saved you... Because for the almost a year you spent in this world, baby girl, Stitch, you were a brightness in my confined world. You were pure. You were loved. You are loved. So so much.  
   
I hope you're happy wherever you are, free to run around and eat whatever you want. Pee and poop wherever you want.  
   
The dogs miss you.  
   
We miss you.  
   
I miss you.  
   
   
- C  
   
   
   
   
I don't know if there's dog heaven, but...  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BeKhlUzPUc  
 
   
   
Art: https://www.instagram.com/p/BDbiA_4jx6p/