We received a condolence card from the veterinary clinic that put Rox down. Its two weeks today since he passed. I created this picture last night. I miss the energy of my dog in the house. I hesitate to admit there are things I don’t miss though. Like constantly popping up to see what he’s into, or to let him out. I don’t miss having to contain him when I go out. There was a time when I trusted him. I don’t miss the constant begging during his Cushing’s episodes, a symptom of the disease. I don’t miss cleaning up vomit which seemed to be happening frequently. I’ve had to learn how to navigate the stairs differently, it’s no longer a worry that he may trip me when he bolts past me down the steps. I don’t miss the little pin prick holes he’d put in my clothes during his jumping and clawing sessions when I arrived home, or the gouges out of my arms and legs because he couldn’t contain his excitement.
What I do miss is the daily hugs when he would jump into my arms after everyone left for work. I miss the cute little happy dance after he snarfed up huge plate of people food. I miss him staring at me with love in his eyes. I miss him snuggling up next to me on the bed or the couch while I watched TV. I miss saving the last bite of everything I ate, just for him. I miss the energy following me around the house into every room. I miss him lying against the tub when I bathed. I miss the excitement of him hopping up and down when I arrived home from an outing. I miss ignoring all the unusual sounds, knowing he would warn me of trouble. I miss the tapping sounds of his nails clicking against the tiles when Bryan arrived home. I miss the thumping sound of him running down the stairs to greet anyone who visited. I miss my little dog with the big bark, and how heavy he walked for such a little guy. I miss the routine of throwing his two cookies into the middle of the room for him to find. I miss him joining me for all the car treks where I was just a taxi! I miss all his crazy antics, like pulling pillows and blankets off the bed or couch to get comfy with. Towards the end he'd enter the closet to sleep on a pile of cozy comforters. As a puppy and during his Cushing’s episodes he’d pull the toilet paper off the roll when he was mad at me. It was a mess, but it was hilarious too. Especially when I caught him in the act, and he’d disassociate from the scene, as though someone else did it. There was a lot of work, but man there was so much joy too! Am I weakening? I hope not!