Every time I leave town and someone is taking care of my dog, a little part of me wonders: what if she dies while I'm gone? The thought has nothing to do with reality, or illness, or the dogsitter's skills; it's just a thing I wonder. Every pet owner thinks this, right? With an older dog it had become more possible than it used to be, but still. Just a fear.
My dog died today. I am far away in Buenos Aires, surrounded by light and noise and wine and dance and life is a little unreal already, and now That Thing has happened. How real could it be? When I get home, my logical brain tells me she will not be there. My muscle memory will still tell me to lower my feet slowly from the bed in case she's underfoot.
Brynn came to me eleven years ago by way of the Lewis County animal shelter just when I needed her. She was with me through two states, three jobs, four nieces, five relationships, seven homes, and an untold number of slimy tennis balls.
Vaya con Dios, querida perrita mia.
what a loss, Alicia. I understand and feel sad with you, as a "human companion" myself and as a friend to you.
ReplyDeleteDogs come into our lives at just the right time; I feel the same exact way about my Jake. My heart is sad that you couldn't be here with her, but I hope you always feel her spirit! :) hugs, Alicia!
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