Encouragement

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memories

I put a pen on the shelf by my bed and saw the brush.It was the kind you used
shampooing your hair to massage your scalp. It was also the only brush I could
use on her. If I came at her with any other brush she'd run, or worse yet if I
actually caught her she'd bite me. But with this magical brush she would extend her neck and stick her tongue out when I would apply pressure with it to her back.You could almost hear her purr but she wasn't a cat.(at least not in this life.)

I cut the treats into thirds. Then I remembered there were only two four
legged kids left. The trio was broken. They had been a trio for thirteen years.
The two remaining sets of eyes looked up at me. Why did I pause. "Hurry up and
feed us." Their tails wagged fast and furious.

I bent over to pick up the towel I dropped and I looked up to her bed. It was empty, except for her blanket. I had expected to see her in it, watching me, waiting for me to open the refrigerator, or reach for a nearby banana. She knew where they were kept, the minute my hand drifted in the direction of food she was off the bed and on her haunches, front paws in the begging position. No one could beg better than her. She did it automatically,I never taught her to beg. I was more than eager to please her, it was fair payment for the pleasure she gave me. She could hear me peel a banana three rooms away.

I rolled over in bed and reached for her. She wasn't there. I felt around
for her, I patted two furry objects,niether one was her, then I remembered. She was sleeping outside. Under three feet of dirt, wrapped in two of her
blankets.She hated the backyard. We couldn't bury her in the front yard, grave
diggging at night would arouse suspicions. It's illegal to bury animals on your property. The vet never asked questions when we picked her up at his office the day she fell asleep.He knew our unspoken plans.

My husband headed for the front door with the two males for the morning walk and asked where she was.It was a habit to make sure she hadn't slipped out the door.(we didn't want her to get lost or hit by a car). A habit built over thirteen years. One we had to stop because we didn't want to remember where she was.(now she was outside and would never come back in, but she was safe from cars) She wouldn't go for walks,she'd plant her haunches on the ground and we couldn't pull her twelve pounds of blubber for anything.She did enjoy being carried though, we had a baby papoose we carried her with. What should I do with it now? I don't want to get rid of it. I need it to remind me to cry when I see it. She deserves to have tears shed over her.

I reach in the cabinet to get my pills. I see her's. There are lots of meds
for her. She had allergies, infections, low thyroid, and vitamin deficiencies. She's been cured of them. I no longer spend 5 minutes in the morning doling out her drugs in bananas or other camaflouges. I get to work five minutes earlier. I wish I had the five minutes back in the morning, I'd rather be late for work.

I never want to loose these memories. It's the only way to keep her alive. I
plan on filling the hole she left with another puppy. I will love it as much as I loved her, she taught me to love. I don't want the lessons she taught me to be forgotten. I don't want another dog to be abused by fallling into the wrong hands.(I'm the only person on earth that can pamper a pet just right) I will love again. I'm clinging to her husband and son. They will be following her too soon, but now they are still full of spunk. I try not to picture them lying next to her in the back yard. With life there is hope and I hope they live forever.

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