Fireworks are a tradition for the 4th of July. I love fireworks. I think I have passed off my love of fireworks to my kid. This year, there would be no fireworks. The sky was lit up in a colorful array of blues and reds, sparkly confetti and golden curly cues. Over my home, the sky was ominous and dark. Heavy with reality and despair. July 4th is a time for celebration. But we were mourning a death that had not taken place. Mourning a loss, we didn’t understand how to feel.
13 years ago my brother texted me. Asking me to meet him at our mom’s house. He was bringing home a puppy. What he hadn’t mentioned, was my mother was unaware he was bringing home this puppy. We all descended on my mother’s home in anticipation. She is happy to see us and suspicious of our motives for being there. With good reason. Suddenly there is a large, brown, unsanctioned animal that is making his way up the stores to her front door. She protested until their dark brown eyes locked and he imprinted on her soul. She suddenly had him wrapped in the safety of her motherly arms demanding to know when he last ate and why he was so thin. The plump little blob was passed around like a sugar dish, each of us getting imprinting ourselves onto him and vice versa. This little litter reject found his pack. There was no turning back.
I have never loved an animal the way, I allowed myself to love this little guy. We shared a birthday. And once I had a baby, we apparently shared that too. He was Hippo’s best friend, nanny, disciplinarian, and protector. He loved humans more than he loved dogs until we got Betty. She was the one dog, he loved. He pushed me through PTSD and warned people when I was on the verge of passing out. He evolved and grew with his pack, as it grew and evolved. Adding members. Taking members away. He always made sure we made space for more people. All who met him were loved by him…as long as they loved us. His life was full, adventurous and full of happYness.
On July 4th, he made it clear to us, it was his time to move on. The adventure was evolving, and this part he had to do on his own. 13 years. It was time. There would be no fireworks this 4th of July, but plenty of celebration. Celebration of life, of the brown, white & red nose Staffordshire terrier that crept into our hearts without permission. The next day, our little BamBam made his journey on without us. Leaving us with memories, but a little empty inside. Our lives are better having had him a part of our lives. But a little empty that we have to go the rest of the journey without him.
With a last, “Nite, Nite, BamBam…” our little Bamski-Doodles crossed the rainbow bridge.
We love you so much, Bammy boy! Job well done, boy! Job well done!
BamBam Harrell
July 17, 2005 – July 5, 2019
“Cookies & Treats”
