05/08/2019
August 4, 2005. She would have been 14 today. I knew the real date of her birth because she was born in the shelter, to a street dog. “Hija de Negri,” her paperwork said. They listed her color as “marrón,” but that wasn’t true - she was all the colors of the dog rainbow. Frosted with brown, but yellow at the core and on her belly, like a ripe banana, plus a few odd patches of white and black sprinkled around if you knew where to look. I used to know every special spot of fur by heart. It gets harder to remember where they all were each day that she’s gone.
On this night last year, and for the 7 years before that, I would have been making her steak. I’d have put a candle in it, and we’d have sung, which she would have barely tolerated while drooling over her “cake.” I would have pulled the green chair out of storage - the one she loved so much I had to beg our landlord to sell it to us. She would have sat in it at the table to eat with the family.
My sweet Hailey. Most goofy, beautiful, joyous, darling girl. My world. My heart. I wish I could have you back to celebrate another happy year together. I wish I could have you wake me up another morning with your happy panting, your tail beating the wall like a drum. I wish we were tearing open the treats from grandma and grandpa, the Amazon present from your dad, right now. Taking our special birthday walk, which was much like every other walk, but a little longer and a bit sweeter.
Please, for me, give your pup a big hug today, and maybe a little steak. From now on, let’s consider August 4th Dailey Hailey Day. She ought to have lived forever. It ought to be a national Haileyday.
@ Humacao, Puerto Rico
