Last night, I had to say goodbye to my sweet boy, Clyde.
My little man. My bubbys.
And my heart is absolutely shattered.
Clyde was with me for 12–13 years — my short, stumpy, floppy-eared basset hound who let the whole block know anytime someone knocked on the door. His howls, his big puppy-dog eyes, the way he’d slowly flop on his back for belly rubs and tap his paw at me like “hey, don’t stop”… he filled my home with so much personality and love.
He was sneaky, too — always slipping out of the kitchen to look for snacks. He once ate half a pack of Oreos and even Hot Cheetos Limón (on different days, of course). He made me laugh constantly. He kept me on my toes. And he was truly the sweetest soul.
This past year he started to slow down. More grey on his face. Moving a little slower. Eating a little less — unless I made his favorite scrambled eggs to go with his food. Over the last month, he declined more than I realized, and looking back at old photos broke me. But even as his body got weaker, he was still my Clyde.
I went out of town Thursday for a work trip, and I worried something would happen while I was gone. But he waited for me. I came home Friday night, and shortly after, he passed away with me by his side. I held his paws and told him it was okay… that I was right there. He took his last breaths knowing he was loved.
I will miss him more than I can put into words.
Thank you for being my companion, my protector, my little shadow, and my friend.
Rest easy, Clyde.
I love you forever. 🤍🐾
