Alone again (Naturally)

My darling Terr,

I waited for you in my dreams last night, but you never showed. Perhaps, as an anonymous commentator mentioned, you’re too busy stealing chappals and eating chapattis? Will you meet me tonight, if only for a moment?

I woke up late this morning because nobody nudged me awake at 6:30, demanding to be let out. The house is empty without you. Nobody trips me in the kitchen, nobody comes rushing when I rustle the bread wrapper, and nobody waits expectantly when the aroma of hot rotis fills the air.

It’s strange to look beside the refrigerator now and find an empty corner instead of your food bowls. I listen for your footfalls on the stairs when I’m in my room, expecting you to poke your head around the door to see what I’m doing.

There are moments when I get a whiff of you around me, and I inhale deeply to fill my lungs with your memory. I was poking in the refrigerator this morning looking for yoghurt when I swear I heard you sigh behind me. I talk to you constantly, hoping you can hear me.

Terri, I’m so sorry for all the times I shouted at you. I’m sorry I was rough with you and jerked your leash hard on purpose. I’m sorry I called you “Stupid dog” whenever you peed in the neighbor’s house. I’m sorry I smacked your bottom when you ate things you weren’t supposed to. I’m sorry I cribbed about walking you. I’m sorry for all the moments I wished I didn’t have a dog tugging ay my heartstrings. And I’m sorry I didn’t take you to the vet when you looked sick. I really thought I could wait another day.

I didn’t expect you to collapse writhing on the floor around midnight. Do you think I can ever forget how you dragged your body to the first floor, to be in my room as you breathed your last? Did you see me hover over you, listening for a heartbeat? Did you hear me call you, asking you to wake up? Did you taste my salty tears as they spilled over you?

I’m sorry, my love, my darling heart. If you were here, you’d lick my tears dry and push me gently with your wet nose, urging me to get up and hand you a treat.

Thank you, my first-born, for enriching my life in countless ways. Are you waiting for me at the Rainbow Bridge? Look for a small white dog named “Lily” from my childhood. She knew me for almost as long as you did.

Forever yours,
Mom