7/17/2006 - 11/30/2020To my boy:

I saw you, amid all the other pups. I saw those big brown eyes - That white chest and chin. You were irresistible and I just had to scoop you up. I quickly dropped you and your tongue started to bleed just a bit. That is when I said, “I’ll take that one – you know, you break it, you buy it.” From day one you have had my whole heart. Fierce and feisty 4lbs of pure love. I knew you needed a tough name since you were such a small guy. DIESEL. Yes. That’s my boy.

This house is eerily quiet today. I will miss hearing your nails “clip clop” walking from room to room. I will miss you barking at random leaves, squirrels, birds, people – truly anything that moved. I will miss your loud ass snoring. I will miss you chewing on your squeaky toys, that at times I loathed, but would love to hear right now. I will miss my office mascot. I will miss having to go back into my bedroom, sometimes hours after I have already been awake, to force you to wake up, get you out of bed, and go outside. Oh the side eyed looks I sometimes got from you! In your older years you were far from a “morning dog.” My bed was so empty last night. No one to say goodnight to or good morning to. I loved that. My favorite parts of the day. I will miss my bed hog. I could never understand how such a small dog could take up so much room! I will miss my road trip buddy. In a year full of shit, 2020 at least gave us so much quality time and so many trips up to the cottage, our most beloved spot. I love that I got you up there one last time this weekend. It was fitting that you climbed up in my lap on the drive home from there Sunday, away from your usual spot on your bed on the bench behind me. It’s like you knew it was our last road trip and needed to be on my lap to enjoy the ride. I will miss your stinky breath and your smelly kisses. I will miss that head tilt and puppy eye stare for more food. I know I will continue cooking far too much for dinner because I always needed extra to share with you. I will miss your dog hair – EVERYWHERE. It’s like the glitter of my life.

You and I have been inseparable for 14+ years. You have been my steadfast and loyal companion. Loyal to a fault (especially up north when you just show up at neighbors houses expecting me to be there). You have been there through all the ups and downs of my life. Through law school and the bar exam. From my days of bar tending to working for a law firm to owning my own practice the last 10 years. From apartment to apartment - to moving back with my parents - to a rental - to our HOME. You have been by my side through it all. Happy times and heartbreaks. Marriage and divorce. You always knew when to just curl up and love on me when I needed it most. You had that special intuition. You have never left my side. Especially during these past two years. I relied on you, I truly did. At times far too much – but you could always turn my tears into smiles. You were never just a dog. Not just a pet. You are my FAMILY. You and I were a team. Stacey and Diesel: A Dynamic Duo. My best friend, my confidante. People may say I am crazy, but I talked to you all the time. I will miss that the most. Six weeks ago, I begged you not to go yet, I could not take another loss then. You were my rock. You RALLIED like a champ and hung on a bit longer. You gave us this extra time and it was like your last act of love for me. Unconditional love. Always. What a gift you have given me. I will be forever grateful for you.

Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. How lucky was I? Thank you for being the best dog a person could ask for. There will never be another boy as special as you. Know that I will carry you in my heart forever. If my love could have saved you, you would have lived on and on. Run wild, pain free, and with the spirit of the puppy that never left you even at 14+ years old. An old soul but so young at heart. If it wasn’t for the cancer, there is no doubt in my mind you would have lived many more years. You fought the good fight. For far too long. All the way to the very end. I know you didn’t want to leave me; didn’t want to let go - But I promised you I would be ok – and I will. You can rest now, old man.

Diesel. Big D. Dies. D-Money. Dumplin'. Bug. Bud. Buddy. My Boy. Old man.

Rest easy, Diesel. Mom loves you always.
Stacey SelleckLivonia, MichiganDecember 2, 2020
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