A Letter to Gizmo

On Thursday, October 1st, I said goodbye to Gizmo, my companion of seventeen years.

I wrote this letter to him the night before, on our last evening together. I’m sharing it here as it was written.

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Wednesday, September 30

To The Gizmo, my boy of boys.

Seventeen years.

I keep thinking about that number tonight. Seventeen years with the sweetest little soul I could ever have asked for, and somehow it still doesn’t feel like enough.

Tonight is our last night together in the way I have always known us. You’re here beside me, and part of me is crying because I know what tomorrow means. But another part of me keeps smiling because I can’t think about you without thinking about everything we have lived through together.

You have had so many names over the years.

The Gizmo.
The Giz.
My Boy of Boys.
My Itty Bitty Bitty Boo.
My Piggly Wiggly.
My Pet Monster.
Jackie.

And somehow every single one of them means you.

You came into my life unexpectedly. That life changed. People came and went. Homes changed. Everything changed.

But you stayed.

For a while it was Blueberry, you and me. Then eventually it became what it has been for almost a decade:

Me and Gizmo.

We moved together. Five different homes.

We spent nearly every day together.

You were there through heartbreaks and changes and new people and different versions of me.

You even had a career.

Head of Security. You had your own T-shirt, your own bed in my office and your picture in a frame. You weren’t just my dog tucked away somewhere at home. You were part of my life everywhere you could possibly be.

And you left your little mark on people.

But the biggest mark you left was on me.

For years, I didn’t need to go anywhere. I had you. At the end of every day, no matter what had happened out there, there was Gizmo.

There was us.

And nighttime was ours.

That’s one of the things I’m most afraid of now.

Every night, my hand reaches for you. I don’t even have to think about it. My hand just knows where you are.

And I am terrified of the first night that I reach for you and you’re not there.

I don’t know how I’m going to do that part, Giz.

I don’t know how I’m going to get used to a world where I can’t physically reach over and touch you.

But there is something I do know.

I don’t believe that tomorrow is the end of you.

I don’t know exactly what I believe happens after this life. I don’t really have a name for wherever our souls go. Maybe I don’t need one.

I just know that I don’t believe a bond like ours simply disappears because a body stops working.

Your body is tired, my boy.

And as much as I desperately want more time, I love you enough to stop asking your tired little body to keep going just because I’m not ready to be without you.

So tomorrow I’m going to be there.

You’re going to see me.

You’re going to hear my voice.

You’re going to feel me touching you.

And I’m going to tell you what I hope you’ve known for all seventeen years:

You were the best boy.

You were such a good boy.

You were loved beyond anything words could ever explain.

And it’s okay to rest now.

I hope you find every soul we’ve loved.

But most of all, I hope you know that you never have to worry about finding me.

Because I don’t think our souls could lose each other if they tried.

You have been beside me for too much of my life. You’ve been woven into too many ordinary mornings, car rides, moves, dinners, illnesses, heartbreaks, nights in bed and completely unremarkable days that I would now give anything to live one more time.

You’re part of me.

And wherever you’re going tomorrow, I need you to know something:

This isn’t goodbye.

I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but I believe I’ll find you again.

And until then, you can stay with me in whatever way you can.

Come visit me.

Lie beside me.

Follow me around.

Be my little Head of Security.

And when my hand reaches for you in the middle of the night and finds an empty space, I hope somehow my soul still knows exactly where yours is.

I also want you to know that someday, when I’m ready, I’m going to love another little soul.

Not because anyone could ever replace you. Nobody ever could.

I’ll do it because seventeen years of loving you taught me how extraordinary it is to share your life with an animal who gives you everything they have and asks for almost nothing in return.

All of this love you gave me would be wasted if I let losing you make me afraid to ever love like this again.

I think you would want another little creature to have what you had.

A home.

A ridiculous number of nicknames.

Way too many treats.

A spot beside me at night.

And somebody who loves them this much.

But nobody else will ever be The Gizmo.

There is only one you.

Tonight, I’m trying not to spend every second grieving tomorrow while you’re still here today.

So we’re just going to be us.

Me and Giz.

Mommy and Gizmo.

Just like we’ve been for all these years.

Thank you for finding me.

Thank you for staying.

Thank you for every single ordinary day I didn’t know would someday become one of the memories I treasure most.

Thank you for being my constant when so much else wasn’t.

Thank you for being my boy of boys.

My itty bitty bitty boo.

My Piggly Wiggly.

My Pet Monster.

My Giz.

The Gizmo.

Seventeen years was an extraordinary gift.

And loving you will last much longer than that.

I’ll see you again, my sweet boy.

I love you to the moon and back and through the entire universe.

Always.