Goodbye, Roofus

This is Roofus. He was very much a part of my life in Oregon. Making the decision to come home meant leaving him behind, probably one of the hardest things I had to do in the midst of my “big move.” He eventually made the move home too, without my knowledge, seeing that the relationship with Roofus’ other owner (the ex) was so hostile.

To put into context just how hard it was for me to leave Roofus, I have to tell you about him. I had no part in adopting him. I was actually very against the whole idea. The first day we had him, I ended up babysitting him by myself. I was so angry at first, but upon meeting him, my heart was immediately thawed. He greeted me with warm kisses and strong, yet affectionate nudges. Upon first glance, his pit-bull features are all you see, and with that come the endless misconceptions about the infamous breed. His reddish fur stands on all ends from excitement and his yellow eyes stare back at you intensely. His body is muscular and strong; his paws like that of a cub’s.

But then he smiles. And yes, he does smile! His wet nose touches your hands to urge you to pet him. I sat on the couch that first day and he went on to sit right on top me, like a child. Roofus snuggled up by my legs eventually, obviously still unaware of his weight and size. We spent the rest of that day lying next to each other, while he stared out the window often.

There have only been a few times that I’ve ever heard this massive creature bark. He is a lousy guard dog, really, because he loves everyone that he meets. He even wants to play with the deer that would cross our path on walks. I made a spot for him next to our bed, plush with pillows and blankets, and yet every night he would burrow under the blanket with us and sleep under our legs, no doubt needing to be as close to us as possible.

The best part about him still, was when I would come home from work or running errands; he would race down the stairs as soon as I opened the door. He’d wriggle his body against mine, trying to fit directly on me, whimpering with happiness. What a fulfilling feeling.

I haven’t seen him in over a year. Yesterday, I was finally given permission to. I opened the door and there he was, my gigantic baby. He wiggled and licked and nudged until he was exhausted. And I let him. He looked different to me, a year had really changed him, but he was still the same, really.

I think that my biggest fear had been that he had forgotten me. I was glad that he hadn’t. Still, as the meeting went on, I noticed how insignificant I was to him overall. He had moved on, met so many new faces and slept at the foot of so many others’ beds. Although it wasn’t the exact reunion I had planned, I realized that it would have been 10 times harder if he were more attached. I watched him lying in the grass, playing with his toys (more like demolishing them) and roaming the big yard of his new home. In Oregon we lived in a small apartment and weren’t able to give him the environment that he needed. He was happy, and that was enough.

Leaving him was different this time. He had a new family, and I had begun a new life too. As much as I wanted him to be apart of my life now, he couldn’t be. I needed to let him go. I will never have a better dog than Roofus, and I won’t try to find one.

In the midst of letting Roofus go, another relationship was mending. I hadn’t seen the ex for just as long, and I was grateful that he was able to reach out to me. I knew that he kept me from seeing Roofus because he was angry; it was one thing that he could do to hurt me (almost as much as I had hurt him). I understood, but hoped that he would find peace with it all and eventually forgive me. I’m not sure if he has, but yesterday’s meeting was a start.

We talked about the changes in both of our lives, lending support and encouragement with little reservation. It was easy to reminisce about things and I remembered how much I knew this person, how much he was a part of my life. And although I was grateful for the civility, I felt more removed from him than ever. I left yesterday letting go of two parts of my past happily. I realized then, more than ever, that goodbyes are not only fulfilling but also necessary; it gives us a chance to say hello to the next adventure of our lives.