My dog died this summer.
I never in a million years thought that I would be writing that.
Sad? More than I can say.
We continue to ask each other "honey, have you let the dog in?"
I continue to look to the rug to see my buddy lying there looking back up at me.
I long to trip over him in the kitchen, be awaken by his sighs in the middle of the night, scratch his ridiculously soft black ears, and watch my kids play chase with him in the yard. There is nothing like the sound of kids running around with and loving their dog, and knowing that he too is loving every minute of it.
Noah told me the other day, with sadness in his voice, that he is starting to forget Barkley. We now talk about him daily. I'm not ready for him to be forgotten.
He was our first baby. We loved him, walked him, protected him, fed him, cared for him. In his short time as our dog, Barkley did so much more for us.
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