How quiet the house is.
You see, my dog died.
Many would say, “It’s just a dog, for heaven’s sake.” But for me he was so much more.
You see, I’m alone a lot. He was my constant companion. Sure I have 2 cats.
If you know anything about cats, you know your relationship with them is on their terms. Besides, the cats will miss him too. They used him as their personal jungle gym. He would lay there and patiently allow them to do so.
He would sit or lay beside me wherever I was.
If I went outside, he did too, the clicking of paws on the floor following me from room to room.
When I took a shower, he waited outside the door. Disgruntled because I wouldn’t let him in, he would whine until I was done.
When he kind of snorted and sighed at the same time,
My niece said he was “huffeling”. I don’t know how to spell the word,
Sounded kind of like snuffle with “ing” at the end.
He loved children. And they, with the intuition of a child, knew it and loved him.
Because I am alone so much, I would talk to him.
I would have these monologues with him, in which he appeared to understand every word. Then he would roll over on his back, hind legs splayed out, his fore legs up in the air to show he was bored with the whole conversation.
He also thought he was little. As a Newfie/St. Bernard cross, he was anything but.
He didn’t realize that there were places he wasn’t supposed to be.
But he’d do his damnedest to get all 200 lbs. squeezed into the tightest places.
If it meant moving furniture, so be it, he was going there.
No graceful movements for him, he’d just flop down wherever it suited him.
Never again will I be able to look at a bag of Doritos,
Oreos, M&M’s, Jelly Beans, Twizzlers, or those damn Smarties,
Without thinking of him, he loved all those.
Beware whoever sat down with a bag of any of those things,
He’d try crawling onto their lap for a favorite treat.
One day, while putting groceries away, he sat and stared at the package of Oreos.
He didn’t try to take them, just looked at them longingly until I noticed,
Then he’d look at me, the package, then at me and on it would go until I relented.
He was my protector as well. If someone so much as raised their voice to me,
He was there in an instant to stand between me and the perceived threat.
If he wasn’t satisfied that his mere presence was enough, he’d growl.
He kept my feet warm on cold winter mornings by laying on them.
The worst will be the long lonely nights alone.
No gentle snoring coming from the side of my bed.
If I got up in the night, he went with me.
If there was a noise outside, he patrolled the house and wouldn’t stop,
Until he was convinced all was well, then he’d return check on me, turn around a few times and then flop down to sleep. I’d reach down and scratch his head feeling secure.
You see, my dog died and I am alone.