Sadie

The first time Sarah took me to her upstairs apartment, she said, “I hope you like dogs because Sadie loves people!” When she told me Sadie was her three-year-old German Shepherd, I was a little nervous. “Like that giant Rin Tin Tin crime-fighting dog?” I asked. She responded, “Oh no, not at all. Sadie hates cops.”

After opening the door, Sadie leaped on Sarah, licking her all her over, then she made her way to me and did the same. “She’s hugging you! That’s how she says hello to someone she likes. Sadie really likes you.” Even though she was enormous and very forceful, I was immediately smitten. She just had this magnificent energy. She was a gorgeous dog. With black and gold fur, she was a classic-looking German Shepherd.

The more time I spent around this dog, the more she became something other than an animal. She was a friend. She was always happy to see me. She liked to spend time with me, and I liked to spend time with her. She taught me it was okay to just lie on the floor and get dirty. She taught me how to take notice of things. This was someone who would actually stop and smell the roses. She made me feel like I must be something special to be surrounded by a family like her and Sarah. Whenever I walked Sadie, I somehow felt taller with her by my side. Sarah told me whenever she told Sadie that I was coming over, her ears would perk up, and she would race to the door and sit and wait for me.

Sarah asked me to watch Sadie for her one Christmas, and it turned out to be one of the best holidays of my life. I got to watch Desperate Housewives with Sadie. I would rest my head on her, and Sarah’s cat Emma would sleep on my stomach. I felt like Snow White. On one of our walks together, she pulled me down an alley, and there was a wad of cash on the ground. I had just bought her food earlier that day, so it was like she paid me back.

One night, when two shady-looking guys began to approach us, Sadie noticed even before I did, and she stepped out in front of me. It was a harrowing experience to feel my life and safety in jeopardy. And not only that but how was I to explain to Sarah if Sadie got hurt? I can still see them today in my mind’s eye. They both wore head-to-toe black with hats on and tilted their heads in the luminance of the streetlight. When those guys saw Sadie, they ran the other way. My companion was my protector. I hugged her and thanked her for looking out for me that night. She also got some extra treats when we got home.

A few months ago, I got multiple missed calls from Emily, a mutual friend of Sarah, Sadie, and me. She told me that Sadie had a stroke. She could no longer walk and she couldn’t uncross her legs. It was heartbreaking to think of Sadie like this, no longer being the force of energy she was before. Emily was calling me because Sarah didn’t have the heart to tell me was put to sleep.

It has always been a fear of mine to be vulnerable with people. I know what it is like to lose in many ways and it seems easier to stay shut off at times, but I let that fear go with Sarah and Sadie. Even though it hurts in the end, I don’t regret anything because Sadie gave me parts of myself I am proud of. She gave me parts of myself that other people like. I like to think we live on with the energy we give to our loved ones, with the lives we touch, and the memories we make. And with that energy, we can exist in more than just memories when we aren’t around, and that means that Sadie is still here by my right side, and she always will be.