I got the call today. It’s time to bring Beau home.
I’ve been doing well, I think. I get up, I go to work, I discussed what happened with my friends and co-workers. I still have Beau’s picture on my Desktop. I still have his picture on my door.
Doesn’t seem right to take them down.
But now it’s time to bring him home, and the finality of that is… unbearable.
I watch the video of the puppies – such happy little faces, although it’s hard to see them through my tears.
Somewhere, Beau is watching, laughing at my sentimentality over some ashes in a box.
Zachary knows better. He sniffed Beau’s nose, and knew he wasn’t "in there" anymore.
Would that I could slip into Zachary’s world for a few moments, where the big dog isn't really gone, he's just not here.