I Want to be Loved Like That

I'm home for Christmas!
When mom and dad woke up thismorning, they found my dog, Duke, whimpering on his haunches, begging to go downstairs where I sleep.
I remember when we first got him 9 years ago. He was a puppy, howling outside my bedroom window during the warm nights. I would go outside to hold him and sing to him, thinking it might calm him down.
He thought he was a lapdog long after he had surpassed the lapdog weight limit. But there's something about affection that, to me, just seems wrong to turn down, no matter how uncomfortable it may sometimes be. When ya get love, take it! That's my simple logic that allowed him to stay on my lap as long as he liked.
One Sunday afternoon, we came home and Duke's eyes had changed. They were cloudy and translucent, like an experimental eighth grade boy's eyes do when he saunters into the classroom 20 minutes late after lunch period. Duke had swallowed rat poison and was falling all over himself. I burst into tears, my dad called the vet, and I held him on my lap, sobbing all the way to town.
He made it home, and from that day on, everywhere I go in the house, I find him trailing close behind.
Duke and I began running together to train for volleyball season the summer of my Sophomore year. The summer was hot, but I couldn't let that keep me from my varsity dreams. Duke couldn't either. We would run, most often, in the middle of the day when the sun was the hottest.
One morning, I noticed Duke was struggling to walk - he opted not to mostly, but when he did, it was one pathetic limp.
"Uh oh, Boy. What's up?"
The pads of his feet were burnt and shredded. So much running on the hot pavement had torn his feet to bits.
"Oohhh! I am so sorry, Duke! ...Okay, you're not coming running today."
I put my running shoes on and went to go out the door. He knew what was up and wasn't happy about it. He came running to the door to go with me. I shut the door tightly behind me to hear him yelp and squirm just on the other side, and I ran down the road, I could hear him yelping from the window just as clearly.
Halfway through my run, I heard a car following closely behind. It was my mom with Duke in the passenger's seat.
"He wasn't gonna shut up," she said, rolling down his window halfway. She was going to follow me around with him so he'd at least feel close.
He put his paws up on the window, but that didn't last long. Soon, he riggled his way out of the moving car, jumped out and began trotting beside me.
If you could have seen his feet, you'd know more of his sacrifice.
I can't repay him for that, but...it's funny, I do often try - laying with him on his pillow and rubbing his ears at night. I'm one of those weird people who talks to their dog like he's a human. I tell him I love him at least 20 times a day.
Here he is at my feet, being near to me while I type.
...I want to be loved like that.
I am loved like that.