Heartbreak Supercut

I have said goodbye to many canine friends.

Every period of my childhood and young adulthood has been marked by "Which dogs did we have then?"

I can hear it now; a contented sigh from a sleeping one curled in her bed, the tick-tacking of another's nails on the hardwood floor. It's raining, and chilly, but they are warm here in this house, the fireplace roaring.

It's spring, and there are so many bees to chase and snap at while they are hard at work collecting pollen. Gerber daisies, the apple trees, the French lavender; her nose will lead her to adventure, always.

It's summer, and she's swimming laps around the pool, turning the dirt on her fur to mud, and lapping up far too much chlorine. It's fine, she'll drink a bowl of freshwater afterwards.

It's autumn, and her hip clicks when she stands. It's alright, girl, take your time. You've got years yet. You'll live beyond your body. There is a supercut that plays of you in my mind daily.

Your soft fur,

Your deep brown eyes,

I said your breath stunk, because it did, but I never really minded

Mom would lay down a white bedsheet in the living room so she could brush you inside, away from the summer heat.

The bath is running, and you're peering at me from behind the laundry room door.

There was a mother possum on the fence one night, and you gave her a fright with the way you bayed and barked and clawed at the wood posts. Even after she left, and the sky swirled with clouds swept in by a gale, you refused to leave your post.

"Stand down, soldier." I dragged you inside, and you whined with the fervency of a war hero being forced to leave his comrade behind.

You're panting in the passenger seat, loopy from the anesthesia. The skin tag is gone, and I take your picture. I know you'll be just fine - and that face is cracking me up.

I'm retching over the sink; we found a bloated tick on your neck. You sat so still and stoic while we pried it out with a hot pin to its behind. I was squirming the whole time.

I whistle for you, and you leap over the garden fence, ears pointed to heaven and teeth flashing as your tongue lolls out of your jaws.

We're at the park, and you've found a lovely little mudhole to roll around in. Again with drinking more water that you shouldn't.

You step on the button, and the window rolls down. You stick out your snout, and the wind rages inward.

You ran past the arm of the couch, and you were out of my sight.

I laid on the carpet beside you, and your eyes locked with mine.

"I love you." I hope the way I sobbed did not frighten you. I hope you felt exactly what I meant.

It's bleak here in this office. I am envious of those who will take their friends home today.

We're ready for you.

At least they do not ask if we are ready. No. No, we are not. Go away.

I grip your leash.

Don't make me say goodbye.

I learned, then, exactly how hard making the right choice is sometimes. We do what is right, not what we want, not what is easy. Sometimes, no matter how right it is, it hurts worse than hellfire.

You cannot afford for me to be selfish. I cannot bare to see you in pain.

It's time, beloved. I will see you again, in my dreams, and beyond the Veil.

It will be awhile, but for now, here you are, curled up and warm in my heart.

I'll carry you forever.