He occupies so many of my fondest memories, so much of my heart. My home feels strange without him.
When I found him, I knelt beside him and sobbed until my brother, his roommate, and my husband arrived. I had 20 minutes by myself to sit beside his body and stroke his soft, furry ears. I ran my hands down the length of his back, over and over, and told him how much I loved him, how thankful I was for his life, how I was so afraid to let him go. With my head against his eerily unmoving chest, I remembered all the times I had fallen asleep with him at my side, and all the journeys we survived together.
We were family.
When Jeff got home, we sat beside him further, whispering again how much we loved him while kissing his cheek. We covered him with a blanket to transport him to the animal emergency shelter, and even there, each of us had to say our goodbyes, petting and kissing his ears, thanking him and wishing him well. Steve first, then Dave, then Jeff and me . . .there was so much love in the room, so much sadness and longing, too.
And now my heart is raw, full of all of the love I have for him.
My dear, sweet Dima--I have such tenderness in my heart for you. Thank you for leaving on your own terms and in the best way (really--should I have expected otherwise?). I hope death came to you softly during a sun-warmed snooze, and that in your going, you knew you were loved.
