I can now walk from room to room unhindered.
When I turn I don’t have to wait for someone to turn around, too.
Everyone says that fifteen years is a long time. No, it’s not long enough.
My depression is really rearing it’s ugly head. I am taking lots of naps. When I am asleep I don’t hurt. But every time I awake I look for him. In that one brief second I forget that I no longer have a little buddy.
He was my buddy, my little man, my Bubba. He was my reason for getting up in the morning and the one that I spooned with at night. He was my velcro dog. He was my shadow. He was my heart and my life.
And now he is gone.
November 16th, 1999 to February 12th, 2015
He had Cushing’s disease that caused pancreatitis and renal failure. And I was in denial. I took him to the vet thinking that they could give me a fix for his tummy troubles and we would be okay. But we weren’t okay.
In the end I could not be selfish, although I really wanted to be.
I do have a kitty, Pinky, but she is not a cuddly kitty. She comes to me a few times a day for pets and to get me to give her wet food.
I am trying to feel better by binge watching Breaking Bad. And that is comforting.
But my heart aches for one more hug, one more walk, one more look into those old eyes that never showed me anything but adoration.
I feel lost and off-kilter without him.
My heart is shattered.
I have no more shadow.