It’s strange how death being near to me all week suddenly made me feel fully dedicated to being alive this morning, then washed waves of sadness and a sense of loss over me a few hours later. It brings extreme emotions to the surface without warning…first wonder at the freedom I have to change as the sun came up; then horror that I could not hold my little dog again as the sun set behind the mountains on the same day. Is this the cycle of grief, perhaps magnified now over a pet because of the feeling of impending doom I’ve pushed to the back of a shelf for the last 9 months? Did I put this energy out to the atmosphere around me? Ultimately, there’s the consistent, illogical thought sitting in the back row that asks, “Could I have prevented this?” An even worse visitor to my head is the doubt. Did the little guy know I loved him?
I took advantage of his undying love and devotion and now I miss him terribly. My pup was only 2 years old and I just didn’t get enough time with him. I want to see him do his kangaroo impression and wiggle his little rumpus. I want to snuggle with my little man. I hope he’s having some fun with Sammy, Charlie, Willie, and Meg. I hope they are showing him where all the dancing butterflies are.
