Five years ago, I met the two great loves of my life – Hubs and Dog.
They came as a pair and I’ve never known a dog to be so bonded to its owner. Hubs couldn’t walk from one room to the other without Dog trotting at his heels. They shared a bed, a sofa, a whole lifetime before I came on the scene.
Walking as I did into this batchelor idyll, you’d expect Dog to show some animosity towards me, but that wasn’t his style.
To him, my integration into the household just meant there was another person to love, and be loved by.
And this was a dog who loved to love.
It practically came off him in waves. Every time you walked through the door you’d get hit with a tsunami, all that joy washing over you like the tide.
Now I turn the key in the lock and feel nothing but a chilly absence.
Nobody knows your dog like you do. Nobody sees the quiet hours when it’s just the two of you and he’s curled up at your feet (or, in Dog’s case, on your feet). When he lays his head on your lap and demands attention. When his boisterous tail beats a tattoo against the coffee table because he’s so glad you’re there and don’t you want to play?
Dog gave us all those moments and more.
He was the heart of our house, a heart that stopped beating yesterday when the vet put him peacefully to sleep in his own bed. We held him and whispered words in his ear and hoped he heard the love behind them.
I’m taking a short break from blogging to say goodbye, thank Dog for his unconditional love and send whatever prayers I can up to heaven where I’m sure he’s poised by the door, that noisy tail a blur of movement, impatiently waiting for Hubs and I to walk through.