He was my best friend

Louis William Ostler September 18 2000-November 11 2010

I struggle to write this as every time I do, my eyes well up and my chest wants to explode. But I'll do my best to convey what an amazing dog he was.

I always thought (and kinda hoped) that if Louie ever did die, he would die while I was on my mission. Somehow I thought that would make it easier. Now I'm at college and I can attest to the fact it only makes it harder not being there to say goodbye.

My family got Louie when I was only 8 years old. I've written numerous personal narratives about that night so I suppose I'll write one more. 

It was mid December and we were playing board games like any good cheesy Mormon family. I remember my sister Sarah explaining the next game and how much I didn't want to play anymore. The doorbell rang and my Sarah said 'Why don't you get it Dave?' At the time I was confused and mad that I had to get it. I was 8 years old for Pete's sake and I never normally answered the door. But alas, I got up and opened the door only to see a box on the porch. I didn't know at the time that it wasn't just a box, but rather a doggie crate. I looked inside and saw a snowy white puppy curiously looking back at me. I started yelling back to my family: 'GUYS! THERE'S A DOG OUT HERE!' Past recollections tell me that all my siblings thought (and I suppose still do for other reasons) I was retarded. As I brought in the crate, my family came out into the landing. We shut the door and opened the crate and let the dog come out and go crazy. Laura and Becca were crying because they had always wanted a dog and I was running outside to shout my thanks to Santa (there had a been a note on the top saying it was an early Christmas present). We played with it and thought of names and knew that this dog would be a fabulous dog.

The next day, I taught the dog how climb up the stairs. Being only a few months old, I noticed it perplexed by these 'stairs' I showed him how to climb up them one by one till finally we made it to the top. As we laid on my parents' bed, I asked my father what we should name him. I wanted Curly since I lacked creativity and his hair was in fact curly at the time. I don't remember other names besides Laura wanting 'Tito'. My dad then suggested 'How about Louie?' And after that, it stuck.

I could literally write a book about all the hilarious things Louie would do, but I will only share a few. 

The most prominent of memories are of his infamous Bichon Buzzes. His breed is Bichon Frise (French, King Louis, his name yadda yadda yadda little details I couldn't splice in) and every once in a while when he'd get all wired up, he'd go on a running spree, often making circuits between couches, chairs, and other living room fixtures. He'd run at top speed for a minute or two until he pooped out, lapped up some water and late his underbelly on any cold surface (usually the granite by the fireplace) to cool off.

He also had an insatiable thirst to cuddle and surround himself with things. Anytime you were on your bed, a couch or a chair that could barely fit yourself, he'd jump right up with you and protect you from anything so you could sleep, read, or watch tv in peace. And if you weren't sitting down, but there were blankets or pillows on such surfaces, he'd hop up and envelop himself in them to be as cozy as possible.

Finally, I want to note his smile and good nature. In all my years with him, he never barked maliciously or bit even the smallest child. He'd play and pretend he was fierce but deep down he was a wuss just like his owner. And whenever we'd be prancing down the sidewalk, he'd look up at me, wind in his glorious 'fro, and have the happiest smile on his face. I'd chuckle and call him a dork. We were both dorks. That's why we were so great together.

After Becca left for college, I was left alone with my parents until I, myself, went to college. I thought it'd be miserable, but Louie kept me company. Most prominently, I remember nearly two years ago, I had a terrible ear infection. I couldn't sleep so I took some Tylenol and watched TV in the early hours of the morning. Louie came in from my room, looked up at me and jumped up on the couch and cuddled with me as I watched TV and eventually fell asleep. Louie was always there for me when I was sick, depressed, or just needed a laugh. All he had to do was lay there with me.

Louie was an amazing dog to say the least. There are not enough positive adjectives in the world to describe that fine dog. He was my best friend for 10 years. I haven't cried this much for God knows how long. But I promised myself a long time ago I would never let anything dwell too long inside of me. He was a damn good dog and I hope my kids will have a dog half as great as Louie was to me.

I'll miss you buddy, enjoy the endless buffet of mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, popcorn and used tissues. I know you'll love it up there. You were, hands down, the best.