HOME | DD

Description

Not really wanted, at first. Another expense, another thing to dirty the house. Some thing for others in the family, not for me. Did you sense that? Because for whatever reason, you made me your favorite, always greeting me at the door, tail held high. If there were a choice of laps to sit in, you almost always chose mine.

I’ll never know why you did that.

You were…

Always there for whoever was sick or sad. How could you know? But you made sure they were never alone until they were better. Their’s became the favored lap, the main focus of your day.

I was impressed.

You were…

Graceful, playful, and interested in everything, and in everyone – waiting mere minutes before greeting visitors and deciding if they deserved a high tail or a low one. At the same time you never went on the counter, the table, or clawed the furniture. (Except that one chair I hated.)

I admired you.

You were…

Secure. Even when we propped the doors open to move furniture and ended up talking with the neighbor for an hour, you sat right inside the open door looking out at us and the warm grass, but satisfied with having the house to call your own.

I was proud.

You were…

Strong and so good at hiding any sickness or pain until it just could not be ignored, that we did not recognize the disease that caused your decreasing weight, your blindness. The Dr. said nothing could’ve prevented it, nothing could be done. The way your hind legs moved, the mess around your dish, the excessive water drinking, and your slower pace all became apparent immediately.

I was worried.

You were…

Frightened, at the very end. That last moment, when you were asleep and we were all around you, saddened by what was coming, by our losing you, your tail suddenly began to poof but didn’t quite finish before you were gone, and gone forever except in our hearts.

I cried.

Description

Not really wanted, at first. Another expense, another thing to dirty the house. Some thing for others in the family, not for me. Did you sense that? Because for whatever reason, you made me your favorite, always greeting me at the door, tail held high. If there were a choice of laps to sit in, you almost always chose mine.

I’ll never know why you did that.

You were…

Always there for whoever was sick or sad. How could you know? But you made sure they were never alone until they were better. Their’s became the favored lap, the main focus of your day.

I was impressed.

You were…

Graceful, playful, and interested in everything, and in everyone – waiting mere minutes before greeting visitors and deciding if they deserved a high tail or a low one. At the same time you never went on the counter, the table, or clawed the furniture. (Except that one chair I hated.)

I admired you.

You were…

Secure. Even when we propped the doors open to move furniture and ended up talking with the neighbor for an hour, you sat right inside the open door looking out at us and the warm grass, but satisfied with having the house to call your own.

I was proud.

You were…

Strong and so good at hiding any sickness or pain until it just could not be ignored, that we did not recognize the disease that caused your decreasing weight, your blindness. The Dr. said nothing could’ve prevented it, nothing could be done. The way your hind legs moved, the mess around your dish, the excessive water drinking, and your slower pace all became apparent immediately.

I was worried.

You were…

Frightened, at the very end. That last moment, when you were asleep and we were all around you, saddened by what was coming, by our losing you, your tail suddenly began to poof but didn’t quite finish before you were gone, and gone forever except in our hearts.

I cried.