It's been more than a month now I think, but I miss Beau still.
I am sitting here, missing him and crying.
Sometimes I thought I heard his foot steps and I thought I saw him poking his head into my study, or bathroom, or kitchen, to see what I was doing. I dropped some rice on the floor the other night, and almost called out to him as he used to always help me clean the floor. then I realized he was not here any more.
The other day I thought I smelled him. That familiar smell since he was a puppy. I saw the odor control powder I bought not long ago and wondered what I should do with it now that he is gone.
I woke up in the morning and realized I had no dog to walk any more. Neighbors must be wondering, where is that lady and her dog?
There are no mats on the floor anywhere any more. There used to be one in each room. I look at the empty spots, and couldn't move my eyes; I wanted to make sure I did not see them. After all, this is how the "denial" part of the grief and loss cycle I tell my clients is about.
He loved me, and I sure loved him. 15 long years. We were friends. He never found me unattractive; always loved me readily. Tail wagging, ears perked up, body swaying from excitement, mouth slightly open, eyes bright and focused on me, he loved the sight of me.
Sad thing for me was that on the last day, I drove him to his death. And he still loved me.
A good dog, to the last minute. Kind and loving, obedient and smart. Where to find a friend like that. I was everything to him.
I miss you Beau, and I still love you.
Wish to see you in heaven. If you see me first, would you bark?