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To Henning

My first

By Rikke KrammePublished 2 years ago 3 min read
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Christmas Card from 1993 edited in Canva, Henning and author.

I gave you the name of a man. I found great fun in naming you like a “real” man because of how you looked with your little beard and that expression on your face like you were “all that” - and so much more.

You had personality, too. Oh man, you were stubborn and feisty, and you’d take on any outsider that would dare to lift an upper lip at the cat. You were each other’s wingmen from day 1.

Your “dad” picked you up at a farm. He grew up with dogs like you and insisted on getting you as his hunting companion. Three days later, someone broke into the apartment while we were sleeping. You were too, through the whole thing. The thief even lit the candles on a Christmas decoration - had we slept 30 minutes longer, it would have burned. You were no watchdog.

I never asked for you, you know. I was a cat person since I was a little girl, and if I ever were to get a dog, it would be a “real” dog of a larger size. You were NOT a large dog. You thought you were, no doubt about that. Sometimes I had the feeling that if you were to look in the mirror, the image staring back at you, would be 10 feet tall with broad shoulders - not a twin sausage dog.

I thought it was embarrassing to be seen with someone like you at first, so I’d just pretend you were a Rottweiler - after all, then two of us believed that.

But you came to grow on me.

I realized how much a name could change the way people see you. I would walk you, and we’d meet another human with his master, and the human would ask your name - not out of interest, more to just be polite. And I’d answer, “Henning”, and they’d go, “Aaawww” and look at you like you were a Carebear or a newborn baby (yeah, I know).

When your “dad” cheated on me, I insisted on keeping you - and because he’d been such an a..hole, and he’d hurt me, he didn’t fight me on that.

The next year I left for school - I wanted to study to become an animal behavior therapist. I needed a dog for practice but you only did what you set your mind to - not what I told you to, so bringing you was not an option. There was no way, I could pass an exam with you, so I left you with my father and borrowed a dog for the tests. See the irony?

From that day, you were no longer MY dog.

My father was a troubled man. He was bipolar and he drank too much but you loved him, and you went everywhere together. The excuses he made for you when you were bad… That really annoyed me, because I wanted you to be trained and well behaved. He just wanted to love you and didn’t have the heart to put you in your place, so you were on top in your hierarchy - but you never gave him reason to regret it.

Despite his love for you, this world was not for him. He ended his life in January 2001 - just two months before my son’s (his grandson’s) first birthday, and in April you chose to join him. Yes, it was your choice; you never stopped missing him - you weren’t yourself anymore, so we helped you on your way to reconnect with him. There’s no doubt in my mind that you are together, just as you should be.

You were my first dog, you were my only dog. Today, after more than 20 years without a pet, I am a cat person again. You would like him - you were always fond of cats. Laurits Jensen is his name (after a male character from an old, Danish series). The liking wouldn’t be mutual.

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About the Creator

Rikke Kramme

All Things Curious | INFJ | Mother & Wife | Selfsabotage coach | Hypnotherapist | Teacher | Lover of interesting conversation, music, film, reading, writing, teaching, learning, fermenting, walking, coffee, and cats | Must laugh every day🌸

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