The Story of Eppie

When Eppie first came into my life, my heart was very much closed. I am so good at putting walls up and not letting anybody in. After a particularly hard year and then a semester 600+ miles away from my family, I cried myself to sleep every night. There was a void in my life that was yet to be filled. At the end of that first semester, my father came to my spacious apartment that had hardly any furniture because I only came with a carload of things to South Carolina. He realized how quiet and lonely my life was and gave me a Christmas gift that I always called the best Christmas gift I ever received.


I was not too sure about getting a dog. My sister, Britni, was always the animal lover. In fact, most anybody in my family was more of an animal lover than me. It’s not that I did not like animals. It is just that my family members liked them so much that they took over the animals and left little room for me to involved in the process. Eppie was the first thing that was all mine to take care of. I was wary.


I told my father to not be disappointed if I took my time. I was going to be picky and find the right dog. I still was not sure if I needed/wanted a dog. I asked my father if he would take him back if I realized this was not going to work out. He agreed. We went to pick him out of a litter of puppies. There were white and brown ones. I knew I wanted a male. I picked out Eppie because he was the fattest and had a belly. Also, some of his litter mates were white, and I was concerned about those looking dirty. When I picked him in my arms, he nuzzled it and licked it a little. I said this was the one. My father laughed that I picked a dog from the first Chihuahua litter that we found.


His color was rare. I was told a small percentage of Chihuahuas had that color. To my father, he looked like a Reese cup; that’s why his middle name was Reese. Everywhere we went he got attention. People were not always sure what type of dog he was because of his colors. He was friendly and thought everybody would be his friend. I had to keep him from running up to strangers because if he saw someone out and about, he thought they should be his friend. Sometimes cats crouched down like they wanted to pounce on him, and I had to pick him up really quickly. One time it was squirrels that stared at him like they were trying to figure out what exactly he was. He turned heads wherever he went by humans and animals alike.


I really did not know what I was doing with a puppy. The first night I had him I said that he would sleep in the bathroom until he was housebroken. He cried so much I put him the bed with me. From that night on that’s where he was, right by my side under the blanket.


And during the day he was right beside. He went to the movies with me under a coat or sweatshirt, and he quietly slept there content. I may have looked a little pregnant,but I had my buddy with me. As a puppy, he went shopping with me in a bag. He would sleep as I checked items off my list. One time it was a cold, winter day. He had just gone to the vet to get some shots and was not feeling well. I had some books on hold that were about to expire, so I put him in my coat to go through the self-checkout. Even places that he was not necessarily supposed to go (like restaurants), my faithful companion went with me. He’s been trick or treating, a cow for Cow Appreciation Day at Chick-fil-a, and blessed at a pet blessing.


Eppie was my travel dog. We road tripped across several states,and he even flew as my personal item as a carry-on for some plane rides.


I cannot mark exactly when it happened, but my heart started changing. Through having Eppie, my heart grew at least two sizes. When I first got him, my father told me that these little dogs will get close to your heart. I did not know how true that was until my heart was already stolen by a five-pound dog. When I cried, Eppie licked my tears. When I took a bath when he was puppy, he would prance in,peer over the edge, and ask for water. He outgrew that, but he still came in to check on me to make sure I was okay. He would stop halfway up the stairs and just peer at me when I was sitting in the living room. When someone else picked him up,he had to find me in the room and would practically leap from their arms into mine, even if I was not that close to the other person.


He loved chap stick and would always remind me if I left food in my purse because he would find it. He also loved underwear, and he would manage to get on his hind legs and pull out underwear that I stuffed in the bottom of the laundry basket. It was quite impressive. I would change the sheets and find underwear stuffed in between the bed and the wall. I’m not sure if he did this because he thought I was another dog like him or if he was just showing that he cared, but he would lick my hair at night like he was grooming me. Sometimes he would lick my arm or leg until he fell asleep.


One day I came home when he was a puppy, and I had apparently left the spare room door cracked. He got into my suitcase at the bottom of the closet and found a nice little bed after pulling out a few articles of clothing to decorate the floor. Then, rather precisely, he made a trail of evenly spaced out shoes out the bedroom and into the hall. It was not until I saw him with a shoe in his mouth carrying it into his dog bed(that he only got into when he did not feel well or went to the vet because he otherwise slept with me) that I saw the artwork he left for me. Also, when he was a puppy, he pierced my computer cord with his teeth and never liked any cord since then. He went crazy when I would plug something in.


So at some point Eppie moved from being a dog to being my family. He was not a pet but my baby. I called him five pounds of pure love and my baby dog. I considered him my first-born. And someday if I have children and they ask me about Eppie,I will let them know about the one that set up residence in my heart first. In doula training when we talked about our ideal birth situation and drew a picture, Eppie was there. When I thought about a wedding, I thought about putting him in a suit to stand by my side. It makes me sad about the times I had in mind that we will never share, but I am so grateful for the times that we did have together.


So how do you say goodbye to a little guy like that? No time would have been a good time. When I looked up the life expectancies of Chihuahuas when I first got him, the books said 18-21 years. I thought I had a lot more time. From time to time when I thought about the day I would lose him, I always thought I would have a full family of my own to help ease my pain. It did not happen that way.


It was sudden. I had no time to emotionally prepare. I’m still in shock that he is gone. The pitter-patter of little feet and the little jump into the bed at night is missed. His little face greeting me at the window when I pull up in the driveway is painful to not see. He would have his face at the window and watch me until he saw me go under the porch, then he raced down the stairs and was by the door to greet me when I opened it. He had it timed perfectly.


Today we wrote his name on balloons with messages and released them by the bayou. I watched the balloons until I could no longer see them. It was hard to let go of that balloon, but I kissed it and on the count of three let it go. A little while later I was running some errands and I was thinking about the balloons and how they disappeared into the sky. I looked up at the sky, and there was a rainbow without rain. I have never seen that. I looked again and found two rainbows. I like to think that it was a message from God reminding me of his promises and that He was still there. I’d also like to think it was Eppie saying thanks for the balloons sent up to heaven for him and that he would be waiting for me until we meet again.


It won’t be easy going through things that we used to share together without him. I miss his warm little body snuggled next to me. I miss his little sighs and sassiness. I miss how he always made my lap his. Computer, books,or anything else that occupied my lap would play second fiddle to Eppie. He would wedge his way into my lap,just like he waltzed into my heart and opened it up. Though I had way less time than I wanted with him, I am thankful for the time we did share. In large and small ways, my life and heart will never be the same. Thank you, Eppie, for loving me. Thank you for all the good times. Thank you for your loyalty and devotion. I’ve said before that I am looking fora guy to treat me like Eppie did, but the truth is, I do not think I ever could find one. Eppie’s love was pure,and it melted my cold, closed-off heart. So now I have to deal with the challenges of living without him. I hate being home because everything is attached to a memory of him. As much as I was wary of letting him in to my life beforehand, I am infinitely more concerned about letting go. It’s hard to say goodbye. SoI’d prefer to think of this time now as him changing his residence from my house to permanently in my heart. There was an Eppie-sized hole in my heart that only he could fill that I did not realize at the time. I will always love you, Eppie.