05/20/2025
I BROKE DOWN SAYING GOODBYE TO MY K-9 PARTNER
I never cried—not when I took a bullet in the line of duty, not when my marriage fell apart because the job always came first, not even when my father passed away. But tonight, as I sat on my couch with Rex's head resting on my lap, the tears wouldn’t stop.
His breathing was slow and uneven. The vet had said it was time—his body was failing, and keeping him alive would be selfish. But how could I possibly say goodbye to the best partner I’d ever had?
Rex wasn’t just a dog. He saved my life more times than I could count. He took down suspects twice his size, sniffed out drugs, found missing children—he was braver than half the officers I’d ever worked with. And now he lay here next to me, his once-strong frame thin and weak, his eyes tired but full of trust.
“You did good, buddy,” I whispered, stroking his fur. “More than good.”
His tail gave a faint thump—slow, but there. A weak attempt to reassure me when I was supposed to be the strong one.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, but my chest still shook with sobs. The house felt unbearably quiet, as though it already knew he wouldn’t be coming back from the vet tomorrow.
Leaning down, I pressed my forehead to his. “I love you, pal,” I choked out. “See you on the other side.”
And then...⬇️
