I miss my dog.

There's not much else to add to it besides that. 

I miss my dog. 

I miss him everyday. 

I know he's 'just' a dog to a lot of people, but he was never 'just' anything to me. He was my best friend. 

That dog made me laugh more times than I can recall, Gave more kisses then my family combined and was always ecstatic to see me - unless he was napping, in which case he was ecstatic to see me if I came to him (spoilt old dog). 

I know he may not have every understood the words I said, God knows sometimes he liked to pretend he didn't understand 'no' or 'uh', it was the face that he sat there. I told that dog my crushes, when my big brother punched me, when my sisters picked on me, when friends were being mean and when parents were unbearable. He sat beside me as I rambled speeches, plays, practiced choir, he even watched as I practiced dance choro - occasionally he was forced to join in, either as a dance partner, coach, critic or audience. Always there. Always. 

Riff saw me at my darkest times. Times I never let my siblings see, my parents or my friends. None of them. Riff knew about the bulimia, the cutting, the skipped meals and the uncontrolled self loathing, and he didn't once judge me. His face was always the first thing to catch my tears, his ears the first to hear me cry and his chest the first thing I buried my face in. He saw me through my parent's separation, the loss of three other dogs, two major break-ups, and rejections that cut more than long-term relationships. 

Riff ran beside me for kilometres and kilometres, I only ever outran him twice in his peak days and that was pure laziness on his part. He tried to save me when I swam in the pool - apparently my freestyle looked similar to a person drowning. He stole food from me, protected me and pretended to protect me on occasions (some humans and some dogs are scarier than others). 

He would run and greet me nearly everyday - even when he broke his back and was not supposed to move he would, and after surgery when two dogs attacked him, he was sore but he still came to greet me. That kind of love is special. That unconditional, unending, all-encompassing love. 

I miss his smell. I know, gross. He smells like every other dog in the world I'm sure, but it was a comforting smell, and I'm struggling to find any of his things that still have it. 

I miss his kisses. His big, disgusting, slobbery kisses that left you needing a towel to dry your face. They were feral, but there was always one more for you. 

I miss his bark. His big, terrifying bark that has sent children bolting, courier men quivering and gas men laughing (Riff barked at the gas man - the gas man knew what Riff was like so the gas man barked back - Riff ran away yelling and sat behind the shed until I got home from school). The ice cream man's bell used to drive him NUTS! He would run outside barking his head off at it - he hated it! 

I just miss him. I miss my shadow - thats what he was. At home, he never left my side - he would even walk to the washing line with me to 'help' me hang out clothes. Jed and Sean often told me that he would sit, waiting patiently at the gate for me to get home. I miss the companionship, the unwavering loyalty - he was always on my side in debates with humans. I miss him and every part of him. 

I loved that dog in a way that can't be described, and with a bond so strong I'm not sure I could ever replicate it. 

I miss Riff. 

I miss my dog. 

I miss my best friend.