Kessie

She was a 7 week old chocolate-colored fluff ball of affection that
attached herself to me with determination and utter devotion. Where I
went, she went and her moods reflected mine to an eerie degree. Some
thought so anyway. I didn't. To me it was natural, because of that
special bond that can sometimes develop between a dog and owner.
I spent so much time playing with her on the floor, teaching her to sit,
stay, shake, lay down and all the things you do to try and create a bond
with a new puppy so that you have that wondrous relationship that
somehow fills a spot in your soul.

I'd always wanted a chocolate lab. I chose the timing of looking for her
until the kids were 6 & 9 years old so that if all went well, they
wouldn't have to experience the loss of a beloved pet while they were
kidlets. We went to the Humane Society and voila, there she was.

She was soon to turn 11 years old, and they are now 17 & 20, so that
worked out pretty well all in all. They certainly enjoyed her while
growing up, but since she had attached herself to me, they are sad
today, but not grieving like I am.

A week ago she was romping, playing chase with me in the backyard and
roughhousing with our other dog, Cloud. It was impossible to tell which
one of them was 11 years and which one was 1 1/2 years old.
And now this morning I held her head, gently rubbing between her eyes
like she loved for me to do and telling her what a good girl she was,
so that the last things she felt and heard were pure love.

A friend suggested that I write about her, to help with my sadness. To
remember all the funny, goofy, or amazing moments that made her
a part of my heart for so long. But I find that it just hurts to much right
now. So I'll save that for another day.

I went into work for a few hours today, just to get away from the house
and that twilight zone syndrome of thinking you see the pet you've lost
out of the corner of your eye. Or the slam dunk feeling of harsh reality
that hits when you go to pet them, or feed them and they're not there. I
work with such a special group of people. Their hugs and commiseration
were just the soothing balm I needed.

Our pets are always, always worth the inevitable and inescapable pain of
losing them. Because the joy they bring is unique and beyond compare.
But those first few hours, and days are hellishly hard to get through.....