Monday, October 8, 2007

Lonely House



Someday the hole will fill.

I'll feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and smell the wind and not get so choked up. There's so much beauty out here. Not a day goes by that I don't think how lucky I am to be driving along a road so full of pine, elk out in pastures grazing, coyotes calling to one another, and the little bunnies that dodge the cars at night. How many people live in such a place as this?

Soda loved it too. He liked the freedom of being outside to sniff around as he liked. Someone said he went out to find a female, and that could be true, but I think he went out for many of the same reasons I do.

I've called a few people to tell them. My sister cried. I didn't think she'd get choked up since she was one of them that kind of made fun of me when I went ballistic another time when Soda went missing. It was Nate's 40th "surprise" birthday party. Soda was no where to be found. I had arranged for people to pop out for Nate and stuff like that and I ended up going all over our neighborhood in the night calling for my dog. It turned out he had followed me into the storage room in the basement when I went to get wrapping paper and I shut the door with him still in the storage room. Lori made fun of me because I was so upset.

He had a habit of taking off for hours, only this time he didn't come back. I knew that it wasn't that he didn't come back, it was that he couldn't come back.

I prayed that if someone had him that they would be honest and take him to a vet or shelter to have him scanned. Then I just prayed that if someone knew where he was that they be honest. I was given an answer to this prayer.

I don't think of much else around this house. So much reminds me of my puppy. I read other peoples blogs and wonder if I'll ever be able to blog about something humorous, or witty, or about something that just makes me laugh.


I am a journal writer, not a blogger, so this tends to be more journalistic. I keep feeling like I'm supposed to write for someone elses benefit. But I can't. I keep thinking I should be less sad and move on.....but I can't. I keep feeling as if someone would read this and say....."OMG, it's just a dog!!!". But he wasn't "just a dog" to me.


The house feels empty. I'm afraid to brush the stairs with the new hair remover brush because once the dog hair is gone, there won't be more to clean up ever again.


It's so final. I so want to see him again. I want to hold him and cuddle him and feel the soft spots behind his ears. I was looking forward to smelling his newly washed coat, it had only been a day since his bath and I worked so I didn't get to hug him while he smelled clean and fresh.


He was like one of my kids. My kids even know he was like one of the kids. I've called him "your brother" to Whit a few times. He didn't appreciate it.

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