I'm sorry I haven't been here. My heart just hasn't been in it. My sweetheart, my beloved Dexter, had to be put to sleep right after Christmas. I sat up with him the night before we said goodbye and I wrote him this:
Dear Dexter,
I miss you already. I miss the way you learned to lick my ears because I would turn my face away when you tried to cover it with kisses. I miss how you demanded tickles, pawing my arm relentlessly if I dared to stop. I loved how you wanted attention and cuddling, even sticking your nose right over the top of a book and leaving it there or smacking it until I put it down, the hell if I was trying to read. At night when I watched TV I would lay on my side and you would come curl up in that empty space. I hate having that space empty. I chose you because I wanted a dog that would love me back. Thank you for loving me. For letting me carry you in my arms like a baby, with your hindpaws on each side of my hip and front paws around my neck.
I wish I could see you again as a puppy, bouncing up and down so high that you once jumped straight in through the open driver's side window of a car shocking my friend who had double parked. I wish I could again find you snuggled into a special hiding place, like the laundry basket or the second shelf of my closet.
I will never see a blizzard without wishing you were there to bound into and over the snowdrifts, shoving your muzzle deep and coming up with a little snow crusted beard. I will not hear a middle of the night thunderstorm without thinking I should bring you into the bedroom so you won't be scared and waiting while you went back to bring your stuffed elephant, Lovey, in with us too.
I will NOT miss your houdini like escape skills, breaking out of a kitchen that was gated, then a kitchen that was gated and secured with a bungee cord. I will NOT miss your Usain Bolt level speed if ever you managed to escape, leading me on a not so merry chase through city streets needing to be lured back by a stranger's kindness and her chicken sandwich.
In the morning I will let you nibble a few bits of scone, since you prized baked goods above all other foods. And then I will have to say goodbye. It's going to hurt me a lot more than it will hurt you, because slowly you have stopped doing all these things that made you your very own self. And I know I need to let you go. But I wanted you for years before I had you and I will want you still for years after you have gone.
Who is going to lick away my tears now bear?
I loved this little dog so very very much and miss him every day. Here he is in all of his fuzzy glory.
