I’m not going to be telling a story today. Not going to be reviewing something. Last night… We said goodbye to our dog Britty. As I am writing this, it is almost an hour since we left the emergency room. I am looking at her hair on my clothes, her collar on my desk and I am crying. I can see her blanket, here beside me, and it just gets harder by the moment. I want to hear the clicking of her paws on the floor, I want to see her tail wagging. I want to hear her yipping and watch her run around the yard…
And I can’t.
I want to scream in frustration for this. I want to. Goddess… I so want to. All I have right now are the tears. I know there wasn’t a choice. I know that this was “for the best” and… I just keep crying.
We stood outside, in front of our house, and just held each other and cried. Goddess we cried. It’s hard on me, but Goddess it’s so much harder on Keith.
All we have, for now, is her collar and I have been rubbing it between my fingers over and over again. She will be home, we saw to that. She’ll be with Rudy, she’ll be in our family room where she can see her chair, watch us, and know that she’s home.
Goddess please, look after her.
Sunlight streams through window pane
unto a spot on the floor….
then I remember,
it’s where you used to lie,
but now you are no more.
Our feet walk down a hall of carpet,
and muted echoes sound….
then I remember,
It’s where your paws would joyously abound.
A voice is heard along the road,
and up beyond the hill,
then I remember it can’t be yours….
your golden voice is still.
But I’ll take that vacant spot of floor
and empty muted hall
and lay them with the absent voice
and unused dish along the wall
I’ll wrap these treasured memorials in a blanket of my love
and keep them for my best friend until we meet above.