really. missing. my. dog.

so i'm going through my days these days, right? moving along. smiling. feeling like maybe i can do this whole life without dog thing. walking on the beach all by myself isn't so bad. not having to come home to make sure clyde's okay isn't the end of the world. being able to spend an entire day in berkeley without rushing home to cook him dinner and do the vitamins actually felt like a luxury.

but then today while i was at logos? just minding my own business. looking at herb books. harmless little herb books. herb books that have no sentimental value whatsoever. tears. sobs. crumpled nakedjen on the floor between the herb books and the pregnancy books. snot running in all forms from her nose. sob.sob.sob.sob.

not pretty. could not even begin to pull myself together to let the poor woman who was quite concerned know that i was, in fact, all right. i was just really missing my dog. really. missing. my. dog.

some day, i know, the herb books at logos will not create such a strong reaction. but when flipping through them and finding, oh, a tincture for osteoarthritis and then remembering that you had brewed that very tincture for your dear sweet handsome man...

well, tears.  and missing.  and sobs.  and yes, i will be okay.

__________________

Comments

[Ella]

I borrowed Clyde on Tuesday, and he watched over her well.
Love you.

[Jenna]

*Big Hugs* It will get easier.. but even 15yrs later I occasionally find myself with tears running down missing my dog... they go but never ever really leave us. I promise!

[Dana]

*bear hug*

[lavonne]

oh, sweetie... i wish i could hug you and make you feel better.

[Simone]

Dear Jen -- here is a poem I turn to quite often to help with grief. Sometimes it makes sense, but there are times when it doesn't. During those times I just keep reading it until it makes sense again...

"I am standing on the sea shore. A ship sails and spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean. She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her till at last she fades on the horizon, and someone at my side says 'she is gone.' Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all; she is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not her; and just at the moment when someone at my side says 'she is gone;' there are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout, 'there she comes,' and that is Dying."

[nakedjen]

simone...thank you. wow. that poem is truly beautiful and perfect. i'm printing it out and hanging it over my computer. i need to read that every day these days. it's quite fitting. especially since i'm walking the beach every day and often see boats. good image.

thank you!