Pluto

I love you

I lost my best friend yesterday, faster than I could’ve imagined and earlier than I can bear.

A week before he passed, he was having the time of his life hunting down clams on a Maine beach. The only solace I have is that he didn’t suffer a second and I got to be with him holding his paw for all of his last moments. Almost to the day, he gave me 9 great years. He would’ve been the big 10 in May - we always celebrated his birthday on Cinco de Mayo.

I wanted nothing more than to celebrate his “bark mitzvah” with him, the cringiest thing in the world, but a milestone I’d give the world to have seen. He aged, and greyed, gracefully and carried his energy and good spirits every day of his life including in his final moments.

There are 1000s of feelings I haven’t processed yet, but to tell the happy version of his story, the way I’m sure he would’ve wanted:

Pluto came into our lives March 2016, and immediately became a beacon of stability in a chaotic post-graduation world. He was fiercely fiercely loyal from the day I got him. His capacity for understanding and intuiting emotion was unmatched, beyond what one could fathom from a non-human. He spent every day doing what he loved: taking long naps in the sun, terrorizing the neighborhood rodents (and rabbits, birds, and whatever else crossed his domain that he thought he could catch), cuddling on the couch, cruising the neighborhood, staring out the window watching the world go by. His list of achievements include, but are not limited to, actually catching a squirrel, managing to rack up more backyard kills than lifetime baths, amassing a collection of over 25 latex pigs, and eating 9 full steaks, one on his birthday every year. He could catch snacks better than any dog I’ve ever seen, and never passed up a broccoli stem, yogurt dregs, or a fish skin. He was the best man at my wedding, and the only choice for it I considered. Boy, could he howl.

He loved dogs, cats, kids, the elderly, and while he was kind to everyone that gave him the time of day, he always showed Meghan and I little extra pieces of love that we knew were reserved for us.

He looked damn good in a t shirt.

He brought joy and little traditions to every season. He’d celebrate spring by nibbling only the smallest and tenderest first grass seedlings of the year, embrace summer by taking sun naps on the porch during every warm afternoon he could, welcome fall by deciding that nights were cold enough for him to start sleeping under the covers again, and crush our post-holiday blues by galavanting through the snow with such pure joy.

The first time I went on vacation after getting him, he completely destroyed my bedroom because the sitter didn’t walk him enough. I loved him so much I wasn’t even mad for a second.

He likely partially catalyzed my marriage, saved my sanity during COVID lockdowns, and was there to help me process all of my life ups and downs over the last near decade. He frequently brought me outdoors, kicked me out of my comfort zone, brought moments of joy to my worst days, and was there to celebrate all of my best ones.

He made our house a home, and left memories (and hair) over truly every inch of it. He loved and cared for his his yard like no joy I’ve ever seen. He was the perfect size and shape to rest with you and make everything feel ok. “Hug” was the only trick I ever taught him, and the only one he needed to know.

I often just called him “dog” as a sort of synecdoche, because he so completely encompassed all that one could be that I needed not acknowledge the existence of others. I think he expanded my capability to love life, people, and small moments.

Rest in peace, pal. There’s so, so much more I could say about you, and to you. I hope one day, somehow, I’ll be able to.