He was not a violent man. In fact, there was absolutely nothing abusive about him. He was kind to her. Showered her with affection. Allowed her to trust men. Again.
Then he was gone. Not even a pause for a goodbye. She’s eating books from frustration, sadness, to fill the missing of him. The misunderstanding of abandonment and loss.
It is impossible to explain to a dog that relationships some
times just end. I can not tell her that it isn’t a
matter of being better behaved or different. Of not licking his face or sitting in his lap. Stella is a dog, so it is not even
within the realms of possibility to have her comprehend that The Outlaw’s
disappearance from our lives was a mutual decision. For her, he's just vanished. Poof!
She was not abandoned. I am choosing this, he is choosing this.
Still, Stella truly loved him and enjoyed his company. Perhaps even more than I. Will a web of sadness weave around and squeeze our hearts if we let him in again? What if we do not? How do we ever really know, if we don’t say yes?
