I just lost my bestest friend. He had something called Lymphoma. We'd known each other my whole life. He wasn't much older than me.
Our first meeting, he bit me and made me go "yipe." I looked at his man, his man looked at me and said "You bite him girl" so I pinned my ears back, put my snark face on, jumped up and bit him with my puppy teeth. He went "YIPE!" and we were best friends after that.
We liked to run around in the park and our yards, wrestle, and pull on each other's lips to say "Hey, let's play."
He liked to drink out of my canteen even when I tried to swallow his head.
He was afraid of my stairs for years then he decided they weren't so scary so he'd come in and play with me. Then he realized he could open my front door so he'd let himself in.
He was the only dog I would share my food with.
But I wouldn't share my spiral tendon. He found that out the hard way when I tried to turn him into a CPR dummy. He got up and decided the direct approach didn't work so maybe a side approach would. He would walk toward me sideways a few steps, stop, walk towards me, stop. That didn't work either.
I'll miss laying on my bed, looking out my window, and seeing him laying on his bed and looking at me out his window.