Day one after my sweet loving companion has forever left my side and I am slightly numb. Day two and it promises more of the same.
I still walk gently in the dark to avoid stepping on her. I still wait for her to peek around the corner to see what I am up to. Cats had nothing on her curious nature. My daily routines so wrapped around her needs that I must now reorganize my day. Every little task, a memory of her. Something so simple as pouring that first cup off coffee…her signal that it was time for her treat and a walk to her lake. Pavlov’s theory in full force, although I am not quite sure I wasn’t the one being trained to respond.
Amazing how much our lives become entrenched with those of our pets. When the kids flew the nest, the dog and I developed our “you and me, pal” attitude to get through our day. We eventually settled into a comfortable partnership that filled the void left by their departure. We both loved when our boys and their smelly friends blew in for weekends and holidays. The house then filled up again with laundry, fun and laughter. She would give me that knowing look that said, “ah, this is as it should be”. Both of us sad to see them go but also content with a home at peace.
Quiet… now it is all too quiet and suffocating. I know this will pass. I welcome the day when I can replace the searing pain of loss with the sweet joy of memory. I know in my heart that she was loved and returned that love completely. I know she is not in pain. I know that if dogs have souls, hers is shining above with a bright light, a wet nose and a wagging tail. And for her brief time on this earth, I thank God that I was her Human.