Due to popular demand I am back. I am a little older, a little bigger, and more than a little wiser.
But I start off today to say that my best friend in the whole world died a week ago today. Sebastian (the "furry four legged baby") was hit by a car while we were outside enjoying the day. Before I really knew him I used to envy him to point of dislike. That ,however,was before I really knew him. He was a kindred spirit to say the least. Not to brag (but I will anyways), but I am the center of attention where ever I am, but if anybody could challenge me for the title it was him. On a few occasions he would outshine even me. No one else that I know brought my mother so much happiness and joy. Before I came along he was the light of her life. Yet he did not mind to step aside for me, even though it meant "less" for him. Deep down he wanted our mother to be happy, and if it meant sharing the spotlight, he gladly obliged. He loved her more than life itself.
Him and I became better friends as I grew older, and over the course of the last year he became the best sidekick I could have ever asked for. We had a mutually beneficial relationship. See, as I grew older, my mother and father begin to feed me what they call real food. While I have a very refined taste for food, C-Bass (My homeboy Sebastian) would eat anything; he was my very own personal garbage disposal. So as my parents fed me a greater variety of food I would simply pass along less-than-desireables to C-Bass, which he gladly accepted. It was a win win situation. He loved me for it, mostly because all my parents would give him was tiny, stale, gritty, earth colored nuggets from a bowl on the floor. It is not very good, trust me, I have tried it.
At times it appeared as though he had a better deal worked out with mom and dad. He was ALWAYS allowed to stay up as late as he wanted, while I got tossed into a very small and confined cage with a mattress. When he did decide that he was ready to call it a night he had his pick of the land. The top of the couch, the floor, his little tent or even mom and dad's bed! Actually I think the queen size pillow top was his to begin with, every time he got in it, mom and dad would have to move to accommodate him. So while bedtime for him meant any time and anywhere, for me it was (and still is) a small and less than soft mattress surrounded by bars before sunset. Hardly seems just. I did get the better deal when it came to travel. C-Bass was very limited to where he could go while I was greeted like a king everywhere I went. He was frequently left behind which wasn't very beneficial for him at times. Mostly when I went to eat with the folks and was forced to eat whatever they gave me, and with no C-Bass there, I had no choice. Where I truly outranked him was at the Gropas ( Gropa is the name my parents gave my grandparents, and they were specifically put on this earth to love and spoil me, thats it, nothing else) house. He rarely went to Gropas, and when he was there, he wasn't even allowed inside. I drove him nuts. Sure, when he asked what it was like in there I would embellish a little, but it was in good fun. Besides whose to say there couldn't be an all-you-can eat buffet of real food lining the walls in Gropas house? It could happen.
Anyone that knew Sebastian, knew how great he was. For those who didn't, take all the best qualities of every dog you know, add a heart big enough to build a mountain, and put it in dog ten sizes too small and you get the worlds best dog; Sebastian, my best friend.
