Dear Tiger,

All the memories I have of you can’t be put into one letter. It’s crazy to think that years have gone by and I still miss you the same as when I first found out you got out of the house. Some people may say, “Oh it’s just an animal,” but you were family to me and you still are. I always knew there would come a day when you would leave to a better place, but I think if I would have known you died, I would have gotten closure. Instead, I still hope to come home and see you waiting for me, jumping around, or barking like the little lung you always were.

You were already old, so I know that my hopes are very improbable, but I feel so bad, Tiger. I read someplace once that dogs will sometimes leave their house when they know they are going to die so that the family doesn’t see it. But what if that isn’t the case? What if someone saw you alone on a sidewalk and took you? What if they didn’t treat you well when you deserved the best, because you are the best dog in the whole world? What if no one took you at all and you were left alone and hungry just roaming the lonely night?

I wasn’t in the country when you went missing, but I asked if you were found every day I spoke to Mom. That night I cried myself to sleep with a picture of you in my hands. When I got back I wanted to do everything for you, but a part of me feels like I didn’t do enough.

I remember the day we first got you from that small little pet shop. I wanted a crazy fluffy dog, but then I saw you—this cute little miniature pinscher doberman. In the car you were jumping, trying to get out of the box you were in. I loved you from the start. Waiting for me every morning when I would open the stairs to go down to the basement. Growling and biting any adult that would get near me, even though you barely reached their knee.

I don’t know where you are now, but I hope you’re safe and happy. If it’s heaven, wait for me, because I’ll never forget you. I love you always and forever and I know mommy misses you even though she tries to be strong when I mention you, or when we see a dog that looks like you.

You know, I could always talk to you when people just brought me down or didn’t understand. I would sit down with you curled up in my lap and you would listen to things I wouldn’t want to share with anyone else. I don’t have that anymore and it may sound stupid, but I really miss having you there. I feel so lost sometimes.

You’re my best friend.

Love eternally,
Gaby, age 21