It'll be one week tonight that I lost my Lacey. It's been hard week. I had lunch with her in the backyard earlier that very same day. She was old, yes, and weaker than she had been, but I didn't know I'd lose her so quickly. Maybe I was in denial, I don't know. She had been such a good friend, through my 20s and well into my 30s, through the good times, and certainly through some abysmal times. She was a constant, and I miss her very much.
On our last afternoon as we came inside from lunch, I offered her a doggie bone, as was part of our rhythm after a trip outside. She didn't take it. I figured she might want it later, so I absentmindedly tossed the biscuit into her bowl. Or, I thought, maybe one of the cats would eat it, which is distinct possibility around here.
A week later, that bone is still in her dish, untouched. I can't bring myself to throw it away.
Just a quick note of thanks to everyone who offered their condolences. I got a lot of nice messages, and a plant arrangement, and a donation in Lacey's memory to an animal rescue organization. Thanks again.