My Best Friend

You were three months old as I watched your little bundle of brindle race around the back yard faster than seemed possible. So I named you Shelby after the Shelby Cobra because you were fancy and fast.
You were four years old and had already chewed through three "indestructible collars."
You were five years old when I got divorced and you and I moved out on our own to start a new chapter in life. I would cry into your fur every night for at least a month.
You were six years old when in my haste to find someone new, you ended up witnessing me being screamed at and beaten.
You were six and a half when I found out I was pregnant. And six and three quarters when I miscarried. You once again we're there to lick my tears and comfort me.
You were eight years old when after so much horror in my life I turned to drugs. You were in the car with me when I got busted and you rode home with me in the back of the cop car when they confiscated our vehicle.
You were ten years old when I wasn't able to overcome my addiction on my own and I got sent to five weeks in jail and five weeks in rehab. You were in the courtroom when they took me away. I kissed you and hugged you and left you with a friend to watch you while I was gone. I had no way of knowing I'd never see you again.
You were ten years and four months when the man watching you let you off leash and you ran in the road and got killed by a truck four days before I got home.
You were my best friend for ten years and you were there for me when I needed you. But I wasn't there when you needed me and now you are gone. My heart aches and now instead of counting your years I count the years until we can be together again.