November 25, 2009 - May 17, 2021

There is no way that I can fully describe in words the profoundness and effect that Bagel had on my life.

I knew that he would be a part of my life from a very young age, decades before he was born. My grandmother’s sister BJ had a female beagle named Annie, and I loved that dog in the way a little boy loves his own puppy. She wasn’t mine, but the time I spent at the lake on those hot summer nights playing with that dog are memories that haven’t yet faded, not even a little. They set the stage for my future love and yearning for the ability to have and care for animals that lasted under the surface of everything else that makes life busy. It was during that time that I made the conscious decision that one day, I too would have have a beagle and his name would be Bagel.

It was Jeannie’s idea to contact the breeder, to ask about beagles as a gift for my birthday. I didn’t know it then, but this would trigger one of the most life altering things to happen to me, to us. They say having kids changes you, and he was my first furry child. It sure as hell wasn’t like having a baby, but it was a step in that direction. Raising Bagel up from a pup to a toddlerpup to a teenpup to an adultpup to a grandpup felt like one of those moments where people’s lives flash before their eyes. Eleven years flashed by in an instant and just like that I saw what other people have seen, a life flash before my eyes. Looking back on this experience, it isn’t something you notice while you’re in any of those infinite, specific moments. Herein lies one of the most important lessons Bagel ever taught me, which is that time is finite and you’re a fool for wasting it. His passing made me reflect on my own time left with my family and caused me to reassess and reprioritize how I value said time. It is every day since he left us that I wish he would still be here and hop up on the bed next to me to sleep.

That is, unless he peed on said bed. There’s nothing like a puppy peeing on your bed or destroying a couch to try, and teach, patience. That damn dog destroyed probably…four couches, a ton of carpet, tons of toys, wood trim, a bunch of beds, people’s shoes, and probably a million things I didn’t even know about. Even in these frustrating moments, he left me many lessons to be learned that would shape who I am today. Perhaps I was not able to see, and unable to act on some of these in time. His “personality” prepared me for real challenges of fatherhood. Had I not cleaned up after him after he had gotten sick in the house, perhaps it would not be as easy to act and to do the right dad thing and clean up the children after particularly messy car sickness episodes. Had he not been such a grumpy old jerk sometimes, perhaps I would not have skin as thick as a leather jacket when dealing with toddler tantrums. Had he not been the barkiest of barky dogs, perhaps I would be much more bothered with children screaming and crying (thanks for that).

Bagel was my first boy. My first dog. I had dreamed about him for years before he came in to existence, and if you didn’t know he was a dog, you would think he would pass as a real child or a parent. He was a distinct member of the family. He was loved by all. He loved everyone. He taught me important lessons about life. He taught me to cherish companionship, by always being there for me when I needed him the most. He taught me to love unconditionally, in the way only a dog can do. He taught me to enjoy the simple things in life, in the manner in which he derived so much enjoyment from simple things like grass or tennis balls. His memory continues to teach me lessons weeks after he’s left us and I suspect this will continue for quite some time. Watching him pass in my arms is one of the most difficult memories I will never forget. Yet every time I think about him, although I’m filled with a great sadness, I’m also filled with relief knowing he’s in a better place.

We will love you and will miss you forevermore.