Lacey Speaks

by Tony Ryan

A letter from our family’s beloved dog Lacey...

Twelve years have come and gone pretty quickly, don’t you think? Time has a funny way of seeming to stand still until the day comes when you realize that there’s a lot less time left than time passed. But that’s the way it is as we all race toward the same finish line. I just have to tell all of you some things that are very important for me to say.

Ryan, what loads of fun we had. Remember how we’d play hide-and-go-seek? Even when you went downstairs to hide, I could always find you wherever you were, couldn’t I? Or when you would take me sledding, I’m sure you know how much fun that was for me but just in case you don’t, let me tell you … it was a blast! I would often dream (ever notice my legs kicking while I slept?) about all that fun. And lastly, thank you for letting me hide, I mean sleep, under your bed. It was a true trade-off; you’d protect me from the crackling thunder and pelting rains, while I’d protect you at all other times.

Bree, remember how we’d play with the balloons? How we’d tap them up and about, I had to use my nose, seal-like, and we’d laugh and laugh (actually I bark-laughed). What about how I would race down the hallway and jump over your legs like hurdles? I also know you had a picture of me at class in elementary school; I would have kept a picture of you on my wall under Ryan’s bed but you never gave me one. I also appreciated playing Frisbee, I got pretty good at that too, didn’t I? Thanks for everything, it was all fun (even when you would try and make me wear people clothes).

Tony, we had many somber and loving times no one else ever knew of. We both got some very valuable memories from them, didn’t we? Sometimes you sounded gruff but I always knew otherwise. I also knew that although you initially didn’t want me to enter your life, now you don’t want me to leave. I don’t want to either, but my time got here first.

P.S. I do apologize for the 4-5,000 times I woke you at 5:00 all those mornings, my face inches away from yours and with the dog breath and all, but I do appreciate you getting up for me. Thank you.

P.S.S. I’m glad I got to know your kids too. I never forgot them no matter how long between visits. Oh, and Emma is pretty darn special!

Mom, I know your name is Colleen as in: “Colleen’s home,” I understood that, but to me you are my mom. You meant the most to me of all; you always took such great care of me! All I could do to ever try and repay you was to protect you (I would have - even against a bear - and I know how much you love bears!) and to love you unconditionally (which I did, do, and always will).

Thank you for the treats: the Mr. Potato Head squeaky toy, the bones, the praise, and the buttered popcorn (join with me please … Yay for butter!). Thanks for tolerating my loud barking; it was my form of expression. I couldn’t talk (makes you wonder how I can write, doesn’t it?) and I sure couldn’t bark quietly. Thanks for taking me places like camping (even with that stupid cap gun to make me mind!), or for a walk around the block and especially down to the river and the beach so I could swim. The river trips were the most fun of my life; you must have been able to tell by all my exited whining and barking right next to your ear.

Thank you for your patience.
Thank you for your kindness.
Thank you for your caring, your consideration, and your concern.

I apologize for the times I ran - like a rocket - away from you. I didn’t mean to upset you; I was young and had lots to learn. But I learned. I want you to know how much your gentle touch has meant to me, from my first scary puppy nights to the last of my doggie days. The absolute comfort you provided for me exceeds any measure. Just look into my eyes and you’ll know.

My eyes have conveyed my feelings for you mom. From the beginning you could see when I was happy or sad, brave or scared, strong or weak. Now I know you see in my eyes what you fear the most: that it’s my time to go. But let me tell you this mom:

I’ll not be gone forever.
I’ll just be gone for now.

I will be somewhere that I can swim whenever I want and run like the wind without tiring; I will be forever strong, healthy, happy and young and I will never forget any of you just as I know you will never forget me. I'm certain that we will be reunited somehow, some day. I’ll be waiting, so come and look for me down by the river.

Bring some sticks.

Love, Lacey

Tony Ryan is married, blessed with five wonderful children and one precious granddaughter. Everything else is a distant second to his family, but he’s also a guitarist who loves humor and working in the human services field.