A Year

A friend posted a picture on his Facebook page of a Buddha statue holding a succulent plant. A hibiscus was near it. The caption of the picture was his dog’s name with a smiley face.

The dog is old, and she’s been sick. I didn’t see the dog in the photo. Tears for a dog I’ve never met started rolling down my face,¬†much like they are now, because I knew the hurt my friend would be feeling at losing his precious pup.

I looked a little closer, and his dog was in the background of the picture, framed by the hibiscus and Buddha.

Ahhh. She’s not gone yet. Relief for my friend and his pup.

A bittersweet reminder that Willow has been gone for a year.

I recently came across this article. I find it to be mostly true. The bond between dog and human, at least this human, is incredibly tight. When you live with a dog, it is a relationship of care reciprocated by unadulterated love. The dog is always on your mind, because you have to get home to let him/her out. You have to make sure they have enough food and water. If you go away, you either need to make arrangements to take him/her with you or to find someone willing to put up with their special brand of weirdness and baggage.

And then some day they’re gone. Nowadays it’s usually you who decides when, so you not only held their life in your hands but also their death. Rarely in the human world do we hold that responsibility for another. Usually humans make those decisions for themselves.

I hope my friend and his pup enjoy many more happy memories while she’s still around. I know I’ll shed an empathetic tear when it’s her time… I’d say that perhaps she and Willow might play together, but Willow never did really get along with other dogs.

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