Marco was brought into our lives when I was two and my sister was just a couple months old. He had a brother and a sister, Bruce and Gloria, and was also only a couple months old when we got him. 

Growing up, he was like a brother to us. He was a bundle of joy to play with, and the cuddliest teddy bear a kid could ask for. He never bit anyone, and when someone rang the doorbell, he'd jump up for a kiss. My dad danced with him as a funny little routine to entertain us kids, and when anyone in our household hugged, he'd always want to be in the middle of it. And no matter where the family went, he'd always want to tag along.

I still remember when I was six and he pulled us along on a sled in knee-deep snow in the park behind our backyard.

The past two years have been the hardest for our family. After our second move to a small town in Northern Alberta, Marco suffered a stroke over the summer and was unable, for several hours, to stand up. I remember reading Harry Potter with him next to me on a blanket outside as the sun rose, and after only a few chapters, he stood up again, much to our amazement. This same issue occurred two more times over next 8 months or so, preparing us more and more for the end.

Soon enough, he had troubles going up and down the stairs and he started eating less and less. Over the last couple of months of his life, he just became skin and bones.

Then, on October 30th, I came upstairs to find my parents hovering over the dog, talking in hushed tones. When I was finally noticed, I was told to leave them alone and retreated to the nearby bathroom where I overheard his condition and immediately ran downstairs to distract myself with video games. He'd contracted an irreparable internal infection and was bleeding from somewhere an animal shouldn't bleed.

The next morning, Halloween, my mom came downstairs to tell me that it was lunch and deliver the devastating news that we'd have to put him down later that day. I spent the hour before his final vet visit petting his head as he lay on the couch and giving him bread, one of his favorite treats. My mom then took him for his final walk and we all loaded into the truck to take him to the clinic.

The thing is, Marco hated to be alone. After my mom changed from a job where she sat at home on the computer to a clinic downtown, he went from always having company to having no one until us kids got home from school to walk him. I feared that he'd die in the vets office, with no one to leave with him.

Immediately after leaving home, I realized we'd forgotten his favorite toy, a goose, in the garage and made my dad turn around to get it. Once we finally got to the vet's clinic, my dad slipped inside to do some paperwork while me and my mom anxiously petted him and told him everything would be okay. My heart broke when the vet and my dad finally showed up to take him away. I followed them inside into the room as they set him down on the blanket. She injected Marco with something to make him sleepy and I spent about fifteen minutes sobbing over him and telling him over and over I loved him, would miss him terribly and that he was the best dog ever. I tucked the goose in between his front paws before fleeing outside to the truck to sob on the phone with my best friend.

And then it was all over. He was gone. Even as I type this, two days after it happened, tears are blurring my vision and I'm finding it hard to write.

Marco made my childhood better than it should have been. I was bullied in elementary school, and no matter what, he was always there to make my day. He really was somewhat of a guardian angel to our family, and I know that he's up in heaven playing with his goose and watching over us. I'm not usually the "spiritual" type, but for once, I know that he's there. I see him everywhere, and spent all day at school crying. I have so many good memories, more so than the bad, all because of him. Heck, I could see a piece of lint from his fur, and burst out into tears.

I've saved one of his dog tags to put in a memory box, which I've promised myself to take out everytime I'm upset, just so that he can be there with me.

I love you, Marco. I love you more than anything, and I know that you'll be there whenever I need you, wherever I am. You were my best friend, a brother, to me, and I will miss you more than anything.

Here's to the best dog ever.

RIP Marco <3