|Barked: Thu Dec 1, '11 12:29pm PST |
|Thirty-one years ago I had my heart-dog die in my arms from a tragic accident. At the time my new daughter was only 3 months old, and believe me, I loved the dog MUCH more than I did her at the time (she was colicky to boot). Terrible as it seems, I tried to bargain with God to take the baby and just give me back my precious Benji. I was so sad it seems, most days I could hardly get up and get dressed.
I still remember that day. People I'm friends with now know about my beloved Benji. I still have Shih Tzu's and I've had many over the years. I've loved every one, but never has there been another like Benji. My daughter has grown up with family stories of how I left her to go to the vet with the dog (she was with a family friend but yes, I just threw the baby to my single, childless, clueless friend, got in the car with Benji and left).
My 14-Year-Old son has heard Benji stories, seen the ribbons we won from obedience, and I even still have one of Benji's baby teeth I saved in a little bottle in my dresser. The memories will always be there. It's like a wound. It heals over slowly and in the beginning every time you think of your Maggie you peel the scab off again and the pain comes back.
Gradually however, the wound heals in spite of the pain. The scar will always be there, however, to remind you of your beloved Maggie. Someday you will laugh again, love another pet again, and be able to rejoice in life again.
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