Sunday, January 16, 2011


As you would expect, I miss my dog.  I was talking with a friend who has experienced heartbreaking loss in her family as well as loss of her dogs.  She was absolutely spot on when she said that having Milo would help.
Milo on his Adoption Day 7/30/2010
We still have the doggie routines we've had since we got Otis:  Feeding, playing, morning walks, bedtime routines...  And Milo is a snuggler, "terrier"-ing his way under the blankets with anyone so covered.

What I'm struck by now is the "nots":
  • Otis is not underfoot in the kitchen at every opportunity for crumbs.
  • He does not need help peeing every couple of hours.
  • He is not looking soulfully at me for his bedtime treat after we put the kids to bed.
  • He is not trying to trick us into giving him a second bedtime treat after we put the kids to bed.
  • He is not forging a path in the snow. 
Otis braving the snow 3/2/2009
  • He is not pushing open the bathroom door to check on my whereabouts.
  • He is not following me from room to room while the kids are at school, plopping himself just near enough to keep his eye on me as he drifts in and out of rabbit-filled dreams.
  • He is not outside "patrolling the perimeter," wearing a path in the grass all along the fence line.
Otis patrolling the perimeter 8/2/2010
  • He is not eating bunny poos he has sniffed out in the back yard.  (OK, I can live without that one...)
  • He is not out for a walk with his nose to the ground sniffing out more bunny poos and all things interesting to a dog.

These "nots" are different from the "should have beens" I might feel about other losses.  I don't think, "Otis shouldn't have died.  He should be here now."  He was a dog.  He got cancer.  He died.  That's how it goes for dogs.  It's more an absence:  Otis is not here.  But he was.

From Otis' last walk 12/26/2010

1 comment:

kwesleyweaver said...

Beautiful tribute for a beautiful part of your family.