Little Dog's Legacy of Love

Porter, right, with his friend Winnie

After our dog was killed, Billy and I were stunned by the outpouring of love that we received. Our apartment was filled with cards, letters, and flowers. Friends delivered cookies and lasagna and made donations in his name.

Some of the tokens came from people I didn't even know. Porter's dog walkers were crushed by the news and sent beautiful flowers and heartfelt texts.

Then one night, Billy and I came home to a sympathy card with unfamiliar handwriting. It was signed by Jimbo the maintenance man, who told us how much he would miss Porter.

Billy and I were surprised, and, to be honest, pretty suspicious. We didn't know Jimbo or how he knew that we'd lost our dog. We worked through strange scenarios and questioned our neighbors ... how did Jimbo know about Porter's sad passing? Had he witnessed it? Was there something sinister going on?

I barely slept that night as stories ran through my mind. The next morning, I walked down to our basement and found another maintenance man. I asked for Jimbo.

Jimbo came out. He seemed gentle and kind, and when I told him who I was, his eyes softened with sadness.

He said that neighbors in another building told him about Porter, and that he had delivered their flowers to our door. He told me that he loved making repairs in our apartment because Porter would always come sit with him and watch him work. He said that Porter was his little buddy. And, he said, Porter is waiting for me at the Rainbow Bridge.

I drove to work in tears, feeling sorry that I had been suspicious of Jimbo. It turned out, Jimbo was yet another person who was touched by Porter's sweet and loving heart. Porter made so many people happy.

How many people lose their dog and learn that he had friends they didn't even know about?

Porter leaves a true legacy of love.

I'm still struggling to process how something so bad and so random could happen to such a good dog. Did the universe think we had more happiness than we deserved? Or are we truly at the mercy of such random, cruel accidents, every single day? Both possibilities are terrifying.

But my friend Kim told me,

"I believe that God needed Porter. He has bigger plans for him. Porter was here when you needed him and now he is needed by someone else." 

Normally, I believe that we're all on our own out here, grasping whatever we can in a detached and random universe. But I so hope this is true. Porter did arrive like an angel -- a little miracle -- when I desperately needed him. I adopted him, I watched him become healthy and happy, I got married, and my heart filled with love.

And then he left.

Porter, I hope your little soul is still spreading love. You were made of love .. and I believe you still are.

But I miss you with all my heart.