I woke this morning with the realization that it has been two weeks since our beloved pup became an angel ... 14 days ... 338 hours ... 20,280 minutes ... or 1,216,800 seconds. His absence is felt every day, our home a little quieter. There are no middle of the night interrruptions because the neighhood dogs are barking and it interrupts his sleep, no more huffing at the door for someone to let him out, no growling at the baby for trying to ride him like a horse while he is sleep. Gone is the battle for food that falls on the floor, or a begging face hoping that someone will take pity and give him some table scraps.
I came home from work and sat down to open the mail. There was a package from Dr. Brayley, the specialist who saw hi once ... who speant only a few hours with him. With fear I opened the package wondering what I'd left behind, guilting for not noticing it soon. Instead, as I unwrapped the bubble wrap, a small round cast fell into my hands. His staff had captured a molding our baby's paw, so even though his is no longer with us, we can stil find comfort in holding his "hand" ... there will be lots of tears tonight ... that I can promise ...
1 Tea Party Guest:
Michelle,
I've not been blogging too often lately...call me crazy..or just busy.
But this is a beautiful post...just as the thoughts and kindness behind casting Sgt Major's "hand" were also beautiful. It takes time to get through the loss of a beloved pet. We've gone through it four times...first or last time, it never gets easier. I guess that's a true sign of the love in having a pet.
Praying that each day gets a tiny bit easier. And I truly mean praying, because we've been there. Blessings my friend,
Sue
Post a Comment