Coming back, I guess.

This is the first time I have looked at this page in what seems like forever. It's funny how quickly things happen. My last entry was all about pets as that was what was on my mind that day, mostly because my little dog didn't feel good. He was sick and pitiful, and I got to thinking about just how much I loved him, and it made me want to share my funny story about the lack of success with pets. I never thought at that time that he was really sick, but as the week went on he got worse. We had two vet visits; they didn't seem too worried. I don't think anyone thought that he would die. But just a few days and lots of money later, I knew there was nothing else to do, and I must be honest and say that by the time Gus gave up I was ready for him to go. Just can't stand to see a sweet little animal suffer.

Now, I've never in my life loved an animal like I loved that pup. I mourned like he was a person, crying every day for a while. Sometimes it still catches me off guard, and I have to cry again, but it doesn't hurt in that same terrible way. My Michael did right by Gus, we took him far out in the country and we buried him, alone together and it felt like the right thing. Think I'm silly if you want, I don't care, but I think you know how I feel, I think everyone has that one pet that means so much. Your Skip, Sounder, or maybe Old Yeller type of love. At the time I was mad, just mad as fire because my little dog dying seemed to represent something so cruel, the worst kind of unfairness after getting something so special. I still love that dog, and I'd trade the one we have now to get him back in a heartbeat. Not that I don't love ya Maggie, but you're no Gus. He was that dog of your childhood, that teaches you about love and death. I just didn't get him until I was an adult.

"They buried him out under our elm tree they said. But that wasn't totally true. For he really laid buried in my heart."