I always feel such a sense of relief when I get all my dogs back together in one place again. I think they feel the same. They are exhausted from the kennel but still follow me from room to room as I unpack and straighten the house, unwilling to let me out of their sight. As I write this, Jack, Gracie, and Dyna are clumped together on dog beds near my feet. Harry is on my bed, but he only has to lift his head to see me. Earlier, I was stretched out on the couch watching a bit of TV and Mimi was curled up between me and Jack with her head on my shoulder. Two of the cats were wedged in there too.
The world is right when all of the pack is home together.
But for me, the pack is not whole. It's been almost a month since I lost my Iz. I miss her terribly.
Harry has also been mourning. I'm not surprised by this but I don't think I anticipated the depth of his sadness. He gets up to eat and go out to potty, but lays back down as soon as he is done. He has been like this since we said goodbye to Iz. His body language expresses sadness, not the constant electric joy and engagement that fox terriers should have. There is nothing I can do or say to explain to him what happened. He knew she was sick, all of the dogs did because they were treating her differently towards the end. But how can I tell him Iz is not coming back, that the pack, that old pack, will never be whole. That we need to settle into a new pack.
When I'm asked how many dogs I have, I have to pause now and remember to say "five".
Every daily routine has a hole in it.
I'm still mourning too. Unless I'm at work with its endless distractions, I feel sad most of the time. But I have five dogs depending on me for those daily routines. And I have to look at the tired fox terriers scattered around the house tonight and think that it is good to have them here, tired and happy to be home with me too.
1 comment:
hugs all around and a really big one for you!
Post a Comment