It was 4 years ago to this day, minus 2 days, that I said my last good bye to the most unpolluted and pure love I had known. 2 days later on this day, 4 years ago, she died. As she was at the end of her life, cataracts and coughing, she never stopped looking to my smile-she brought it whenever we greeted each other. She ignored the sorrow of my losing my situation, and the packing following it.
She was a misfit; having been overlooked by her first family she knew. When she was introduced to me, she stepped ahead of this family to take a personal friendship with me. I tend to think things were meant to align her. She seemed to have a second adolescence when we were together. And it was so great to have her enthusiasm and joy.
Exercise never seemed to phase her. I would always give her a bath, and groom her after those sessions. She’d snuggle up and go to sleep together.
As it were, she died 2 days after I got on the plane for a better job than the “sensibilities of North Carolina” would allow.
Fuck you world!
I want my dog back!