Loss of a borrowed dog

It’s been a little over two years that I haven’t had my own dog. Our two oldies died within two months of each other and it was heart wrenching. I have lived my adult life with furry beasts who are just hearts with a tail and so easy to love.

There’s something about the wordless pet love that just fills my soul, so to live without them on a daily basis took some adjusting. Life isn’t conducive to having my own dog right now, so I do the next best thing and dogsit.

In the process I have my heart expanded by someone else’s beast. The dogs don’t mind, because they are more than capable of spreading their love. It’s me who had the benefit of sharing this delicious space of love. So on hearing that one of my temporary charges has crossed the doggie rainbow bridge, gives me paws to reflect and be sad.

This particular king, Harley, was a beautiful beast. He helped himself to a swim and would bark cheerfully from the top step to tell the neighbours that the ‘water is fine’. He would lay his heavy head on my lap for a rest after his excited walk around the block and look up at me with thanks in his eyes. His boundless energy would follow up and down the stairs in an attempt to figure out where I was going to settle. He would groom his tiny brother with his massive tongue until his fur was soaked and would still want to do a second rinse. He understood the different sounds of my leaving and would take himself out of the door with a small sigh. The excitement of my return would always be loudly celebrated whether my absence was 5 minutes or 5 hours. He was a delightful dog and although not part of my daily life, I will certainly miss him. His lovely owners are the unlucky ones who deal with his huge absence.

But I grateful to have been in his happy presence for the short times in his life.

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