Goodnight Sweetheart

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.