worst day of my life was wed...now its friday.

It was easier than yesterday. I woke up about 6am and was thinking about her early years, of all things. My Sheltie used to run, run, run in a figure 8 around our dining room table then back into the family room around the coffee table, all the while I was planted right smack in the middle of the 8. She'd run, run, run so fast four about 5 completions then with her tongue waggin out in exhaustion...stand right next to me wanting some affection. I kept thinking about those moments. She loved it when I rubbed her ears, that sweet face closing her eyes, soaking up the lov'in. I can see it in my mind's eye.

I then went to all the times we wrestled in the living room. I would stand with an arch in my stance while little one would weave in and out around my legs, then I'd lean down and with my arms go back and forth in pedulum swing while she tried to bite me...rarely succeeding. I'd tire her out, she'd snuggle up to me as to say..."let me catch my breath here, daddy, then let's go again!" Later in her life I would walk into the house, she'd be there ready to greet me, and I'd walk right over her little self as she'd walk through the "arch" like it was all planned out ahead of time...and now she gets her petting and kisses. I could not pass her by without kneeling down to love her some more. I miss that right now.

Next memory in the slideshow through my mind was one of my favorites. I'd be floating in the pool on a sunny June afternoon and I'd look over at my sweet dog over a few feet from me and there she was resting like a little lady under the patio table umbrella and cozied up to a big palm leaf for shade. Just as pleasant and tranquil a scene as I would ever have wanted for her to experience. That big dog smile on display. Sometimes I would get off my float and say to her..."Come here little one, little one" patting the side of the pool edge. Most of the time, she'd look at me like..."I'm not getting in that pool, daddy, no way." She didn't like getting wet but every once in awhile she'd "throw me a bone" and let me pick her up and walk around the pool. She knew I would keep her safe and dry. Then I would gently place her on the pool surface where she'd go back to her trusty spot. I'm going to miss that this summer.

I can walk around the house much easier now, my wife commented about that too. For so many years, we get up and let her out, then go through the routine of feeding, and playing with her before work. Now, I just get up and start the process without her. Little bit easier today, but I notice the void. She used to bark up a storm at the door glass when she'd see anybody across the street come into "her space". No barks, just outdoor sounds, neighborhood dogs every so often. The house is quiet without her.

I miss so much the little names and sayings I would chant to my little sweetheart, every day, many times a day. I called her "Hey, little one, little one" almost every day of her life. My wife called her "gurly gurl" (we're into repeating, didn't you notice?) I'd talk to my dog sometimes just to get a rise out of her and my honey of a wife and son when he was in the home with us. Funny thing about this dog, she was intensely jealous when anyone showed affection towards me, we all knew about it, every friend or relative. When my wife gives me a big hug and smooch in the kitchen, little Sheltie was there looking up and she began to bark, bark, bark...and wouldn't stop until I stopped smooching and hugging wife and showed her some lov'in, too. Which I ALWAYS did, like a daily routine for 12 1/2 years. It's what daddy does, show everybody in the home how much he cares about each life in that house. There is no assuming with me...you know I love you because I put it out there on display for all to see and feel. This sweet dog knew she was loved. I take comfort in that fact and it gets me by right now...easier than yesterday, yes...empty feeling and waves of sadness still? Yes... Tweet