In the incident that killed my friend Thy Mims and catastrophically injured me, I also lost my dog Buster Posey. He was the smartest dog I’ve ever met and we had the exact same grumpy but oddly easy-going personality. He was the best part of the year we shared. We were only a few days away from his first Gotcha Day when he died. Losing a pet always hurts but waking up eleven days later to learn he’d already been cremated, and I’d never had a chance to say goodbye, hurt differently. I did my best to honor his memory and mourn the loss.
I knew when I got home from months in the hospital and rehab, that I wasn’t ready to care for another dog. But I started looking immediately. I needed to know that I wasn’t going to be along forever. Of course, mind you my mama and her mean-spirited cat Myrtle were staying with me and caring for me, so I may have been lonely, but I wasn’t alone.
About six months after I came home from the hospital. After friends stopped calling and coming by everyday. And my mama and Myrtle had gone home I woke up feeling something I couldn’t name. It felt like a hollow hole. But I knew anything I tried to throw down it would just disappear because there was no bottom to the feeling. It didn’t have edges or a shape. I didn’t know who to call for help. But I felt like I was dying. Not the way I felt in the hospital but like death had sent me text letting me know he’d be back to get me when his schedule allowed.
Just when I was going to surrender to that dark feeling it was interrupted by the thought, “I need a dog. I need someone to love and take care of. I don’t matter to anyone. But I’d matter to a dog.” Now when I’m not having an emotional crisis, I can see that people care about me. But that day I was convinced if I didn’t adopt a dog, I would disappear because nothing was holding me to this life.
I went online, and within the hour Yogi Berra was on his way. He was originally named Thad, but I took one look at those big ears and that smooshy face and realized he looked like Hall of Fame catcher Lawrence Peter Berra aka the great Yogi Berra.
Two years ago, he came into my life and has brought chaos and made me laugh so hard and so long he sometimes becomes indignant.
Nighttime is hard for me and when I wake up from a nightmare or in the middle of a panic attack, he’s there. We’re a team. We’re best friends. And if I take care of him, he’ll take care of me. When I’m listing my blessings, he’s usually the first one I think of. He’s a good Lil’ Dude and I love him.
Yogi Berra in his management attire.
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