life without sadie, day 2
nothing is the same without you. i know that sounds cliché, but the things that used to bring me joy just seem so hollow now. thinking the worst is over, i go sit outside in the sunshine. i look over my shoulder, instinctively and without thinking. you’re not following of course, and i’m sobbing again. outside. within earshot of the neighbors, but i can’t stop.
i’m on my second bag of cheese curls.
another day without puddles, pills, and baby gates to keep you in the kitchen….but i would give it all up in a heartbeat to have you back for a few moments. i miss your warm furriness, the way you would squirm when i would pick you up for a hug. images of you keep popping up, unwilled, in my mind, and i find myself making a list of things that i miss about you already: your little head sticking out of the dog door; your open mouth coming towards my hand regardless of whether there was food in it; the way your little leg would cock out at a jaunty angle.
you should know that molly is doing well. i am both surprised and relieved, and can only figure that she knew something we didn’t. maybe she could smell your failing systems and it stressed her out. at any rate, she is calmer than she has been in a long while. don’t worry, she still gives the mailman hell. i am glad to have her now, as always, and even though she is as unsure of the future as i am, when i am with her i think that everything will be alright. just as you followed her around in darkness because her bright white coat was the only thing you could see, i am clinging to her now.