Rest in Peace, Friend.

One day in 1995, me and the girl I was dating went to the shopping mall to buy something, what it was, I've no idea and really couldn't care less, but we decided to stop by the pet store in the next town to have a look at all the cute little critters.

Walking in, neither of us knew that we were going to meet the The Best Damn Dog in the World.

It took about 3.6 seconds for me to fall in love with him, a little Beagle pup. I told her that we had to leave, asked the guy who was working if he could hold the dog I wanted, that I needed to run it by my parents before I bought him.

He told me that he couldn't do that, that there was a strict policy about holding animals for people who "might" make a purchase.

I drove the 17 miles home in under 37 seconds (OK, I'm exaggerating) to run it past ma and dad. But, just my luck, they were not home. I was angry and a lil' sad because the pooch I had just fallen in love with would be, without a doubt, gone to somebody else before I could return to claim him as mine.

About 45 minutes passed before the parents returned home. I was so excited for them to get in the house so I could ask them about the dog that I couldn't keep my ass in the chair. I walked to the kitchen to throw away an empty can of soda and as I stood at the trash can, mom hollered across the house.

"Scott...come and see what we bought."

As I turned the corner to see what they had purchased, that cuter than hell Beagle that I was ready to beg and plead for was standing on the floor infront of them.

For the next 14-years, I watched that little Beagle grow up to be a full sized pooch. He ate whatever he wanted, drank whatever he wanted and, pretty much, was my best friend.

He would sit and listen to me whenever I needed to talk about somethin; face on my lap, right paw on my leg, starring at me as I talked with his big brown eyes.

He never bit a single person. Never got into fights with other dogs. I can't remember him ever even barking at other dogs. He was a friend of the furry feline, Newman, that lives in Chicago with me. And best friend to Faith the Weiner dog that also lives at my parents house.

I wish his departure could have been avoided and he could have stayed here to meet my future kids. But his time had come. So he checked in to Doggy Heaven late last night and right now, he's probably lying on the cool floor of the basement, or eating a medium rare steak (the ONLY THING I ever heard him beg for while the family was eating), or drinking water from a pool of water in the grass in the yard, just waitin, for somebody to scratch under his chin.

I'll miss ya buddy. You were a damn good dog...and an even better friend.

My Best Friend Cody, 1995-2009