Nine months & so much change
My sweet boy,
I wrote half a book the other night and as I went to save it, I clicked too fast and deleted the whole thing :) Brilliant, right? So I'll try again. It's been nine months and therehasbeen change. It began as the sun teased the leaves to green and the song of the birds rang in June. The lilac bush that hadn't bloomed in years was laden, filling the air with the scent of a late summer. Your body, I'm convinced, nourished the roots of the trees and they bloomed in remembrance of you.
In the middle of June, Dash came along. Wandering the aisles of the shelter, picking out which kitten to save and being sick over the ones left behind, I told Kammi I wasn't remotely interested in another dog. Mum had called me earlier that week, begged me to take him and I just said there was no way. I really had no need or desire at.all. for another dog. So with a nudge and a "Just come look at him," I walked down the row of kennels and there he was, sitting there and smiling as if to say, "There you are. Finally, I've been waiting for you." I took him out for a wee and never looked back.
Pard, you were not just a dog. You filled this home and my life with such an enormous spirit, and I had no idea just how much I was hurting until I brought him home and within days, I began to realize just how gaping and raw the void had been from losing you.I caught myself laughing at Dash's antics. There is no comparison to be made, old friend. It wouldn't be fair in any way, butI know without a doubt that you sent Dash to me because I needed him. I needed to see how sad I was so that I could experience laughter again.As I sat out on the grass at the shelter, sobbing and aching and healing all at once, I questioned to God, to myself, how would I ever love another dog and so quickly? The answer came, soft and quietly as answers often do, that it was entirely possible to love Dash. I could love you two equally, just differently. And as those thoughts rested firmly in place, I cried tears of happiness and relief. So he came home with me.
He with a penchant for herding and chasing the poor chickens. He who chews knickers and socks. He of the Hunter-Gatherer clan, picking up random items in each room and piling them by me, ever so proud of himself. He has more dexterity in his paws than most people I know and he is in love with his tennis ball. Today I taught him how to drop it in a wicker basket. He'll be picking up after himself before long. He's so clever, and very comical. He makes me laugh. He keeps Paisley on her toes - they are the best of friends. He drives Gus crazy, as at 14, he is going blind and can't stand the youthfulness that he once claimed so vicariously. His time is coming too, I can feel it. I'm not ready to say goodbye again. I don't think we ever are though, are we? We prepare, but we are never ready. Stripes misses you and still looks for you at night. Your collar still sits on my bedside table and I could never find the tags under the deck. I still touch your collar and feel you close and I know you are not so far away.
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