My Best Girl: Bernie’s Story

Dog-aggressive. Unfriendly. Doesn’t like people. These were the things the adoption center told us about the dog we were looking at. We took Jack with us to look for another dog to add to our family and decided we’d introduce them and see how it went. The worst that could happen is that they didn’t get along and we’d know it wasn’t a good fit for us. But wouldn’t you know it turned out that dog-aggressive wasn’t the right description. Alpha energy is what they should have said. Needless to say, we fell in love and brought this spunky girl home with us. I was a big The Big Bang Theory fan at the time and have forever been a Broadway fan, so I decided Bernadette (after Bernadette from Big Bang and Bernadette Peters) was the perfect name for a small but spunky pup. 

Bernie, as we started referring to her, fit right in with Jack and quickly began showing him the ropes. She caused all sorts of mischief. She threw up every time we put her in the car. She dug holes in red dirt right before we were getting ready to drive from Alabama to Louisiana, so we were delayed due to a sink bath (which she hated). She hated all baths actually. She tried to escape every single one of them. She was dramatic. She was loud. She was bossy. 

But she was also my shadow. I couldn’t go to the bathroom without her following me in or laying outside the door to wait for me. She wasn’t a cuddler unless it was cold out. She would sleep at the foot of the bed and would sometimes snuggle my feet. She was a fierce protector and didn’t let anyone, even Paul, mess with me. She even chased away a thief once. 

She was a lover of cheese, peanut butter, and anything and everything she could get her paws on. Marshmallows were a particular favorite when visiting my parents. 

She was great at tug of war but didn’t love fetch. She would chase down a toy but wouldn’t bring it back. It was more of a chase it down then chew it until it fell apart situation.

She was a licker. She licked everything to excess: any part of your body within reach of her, herself, the furniture…oh the furniture- I told you she was mischievous. 

When we found out she had congestive heart failure, we were told that we’d watch it to make sure she was doing well and would treat it accordingly. But we knew there was no cure and that she would eventually die from this disease. She had to take medicine, but she did great for a good while. Until she wasn’t. The end was very fast. It was awful, and I can’t write about that night and how traumatic it was. But I can say what a fabulous vet we have in Josh Gardner, who met us in the early hours of the morning with the willingness to help us out. She was struggling, and we were sure we’d have to just put her down. However, she died in my arms early in the morning while it was still dark out on the way to the vet’s office, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

I know that people scoff at others who think their pets are like their children. But our dogs are our children. She was a year old when we got her, and she was 13 when she passed. We had her for almost her whole life. I cannot imagine her living with anyone else. She was the best dog I have ever had and probably ever will have. I miss her everyday. Every single day. 

I’ve been thinking about her a lot this month. I know it’s because it’s October. Today is the one year anniversary of her death, and while it’s a little easier everyday, I still miss opening the bathroom door to her waiting for me. I still miss the cold morning cuddles, especially the ones  in front of the Christmas tree. I miss her mischief. I miss her spunk and her bossiness. I really hope God lets us be reunited with our pets in heaven. 

I miss you, B.