What a crazy time it’s been, the last 3 days. The title here takes on 2 meanings. On a more simple plane, my 30’s. On Saturday, the 29th, I discovered 40. Nothings different, just my outlook. However, before that moment happened, I learned that my best friend. My confidant. My true partner in crime, had gone missing. Some can say she was “just a dog”, but if you knew her, you knew she was anything but “just a dog”. The sweetest, most loving, caring, consoling friend you’d ever have. Later that night my daughter called to inform me she found her. See, I was out of town, hours away, with spotty service. When she found her she said she was laying on the side walk, her collar placed next to her, neatly. She wasn’t moving. I called my neighbor to assist her. My daughter is 17, but an innocent 17. She loves animals more than people. My neighbor calls me back and tells me she’s gone. I lost myself in that call. My daughter repeatedly telling me how sorry she is, because Hope was my dog. I try to console her, but I understand her sorrow and pain. I arrived home today, after she had been removed and taken for cremation. It’s strange. It’s lonely. It’s like a giant piece of the love here has been taken away. Maybe after we heal it’ll return.
