…at least I think so. We watched TV, hung out on the rug with her, played with her, pet her. Did everything we could. If it weren’t for the cancer and her arthritis she’d be just like a puppy. People always thought she was a puppy when we walked her, maybe because she wasn’t very big. Still, she always had a sort of exuberance that masked her age.
I decided I want to keep her cow toy (which my wife corrected me on…her friend brought her a duck which she promptly destroyed and we got her the cow since we learned from that duck that she liked those sorts of toys–other toys never worked with her) and her leash. My wife’s getting something to remind her of Sasha…black onyx.
She was very content here...
Just a couple hours left in the night and not a whole lot left in the morning. Tonight’s going to be hard because I won’t want to sleep since I know it will bring the morning even faster.
Tomorrow’s going to be even worse but I’m sure it’ll be here and there until the next day. I’m sure by Tuesday we’ll be numb and we’ll start to heal. The hard part is getting back into the routine and getting work done. I think I’ve got the harder job since I work at home. I’ve gotten used to keeping an eye on her and saying hello and goodbye every time I came in and left.
Plus, I’ll miss her in the evenings…she used to always be there, sleeping in her bed. I’m sure my wife will want to throw everything out but I think it’s better to keep what you can. As she’d told me (and I know this), it’s always best to think about the good times. This is advice I give others but it’s hard to take your own advice.
Good night, Sasha. Sweet dreams of many more good days wherever you’ll be.
kn
