Marianne (resplendentposy) wrote,

Like a child who’s run away
And won’t be coming back
Time keeps passing by
As night turns into day

I wrote this on July 4, before we left...

I miss my puppy dog. I miss her being here. And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want her presence here to grow further away. I want to be able to say a week ago, she was fine. She was my sweet little puppy dog. She was wagging her tail, and running around. I don’t want to lose that... I don’t want that to be the distant past. I want her to be here and with us. Always... A week ago, she was here... Two days ago, she was here... I don’t ever want to forget that face, that presence, that sweet little puppy girl... But now it’s already been an hour, and four, and a night, and a day, and it will only grow more distant... I just don’t want her to fade...

I’m feeling a little better I guess. Try not to think about things too much. I’ve been busy with other things the past few days. I will have to see how things are once they return back to “normal”.

One of Winni’s doctors who she had been seeing the most sent us a card. It had with it some little locks of Winni’s fur, probably from her ears since that fur was always the longest. Just something to remember her by... That was really thoughtful. I suppose it helps to have something tangible. There were also some little cards with her pawprint on it. I look at that pawprint, and remember signing cards for her... I’d draw a little puppy paw. Love, Winni.

Signed by her doctor and the vet who was going to perform her surgery

It couldn’t have been more than a week before she died, we got home, and her paws and muzzle were all muddy. My dad had taken her out to the backyard, when it had rained recently. So, running around, and sniffing the ground got her all muddy. My mom washed her off in the sink, sort of half a bath. She smelled like puppy shampoo.

Of course, now I’ve gotten myself thinking about everything again...

Paw prints on the floor, nose prints on the window, the sound of her collar and tags jingling whenever she moved, the smell of puppy shampoo, the softness of her fur after she’d been to the groomer, the sound of her thundering down the stairs and rubbing herself on the carpet or burying herself in blankets after she’d had a bath. You miss those little things...

God, I keep remembering things... There’s just too much to write down. I’m just going to miss all of that. All of those memories you have.. you just want to experience those things always. You want her to be there tomorrow, to watch, and pet, and love. You want more, and you fear that those things you have will be lost or forgotten. But there will be no tomorrow. There will be no more. And so you have only to cling to what you did experience, what you do remember.

*hugs her puppy dog* I still miss her...

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