Hey, Spike Baby. How are you doing up there in doggy heaven? I imagine you’re up there charming the cuddles out of everyone and playing with your friends Meatball, Bella, and Bentley amid some beach waves. I can’t believe you’ve been gone six months today. I miss you dearly and I think of you every day.
I’d say life is hard without you, but really it’s just…different. We're privileged just to have had you in our lives. The void your presence has left behind is still there. For some people, that void is so unbearable they get another dog right away. That just doesn’t feel right, even after six months. I’m sure the right dog will come along one day - just like you did - but “filling the presence” would feel like replacing you, and that’s weird.
Our days are somehow still filled with smiles and laughs. Weston Bebe brings us a lot of joy, and sometimes we scroll through the many Instagram bulldogs we follow. We joke a lot with you as if you were still around; for me, it’s like acknowledging that your spirit is indeed still here, even if it’s just in my heart.
My favorite Christmas gift this year was a necklace with your name and “Tofino” on the back, by a jewelry designer I saw in Tofino back in June. Our last trip together; Tofino is that much more of a special place for us because of you. We wanted to get our Spike tattoos up there a couple of weeks ago but the one tattoo shop in town was closed for the season!
Every once in awhile, the grief likes to sneak up on me like a wave. I’ll be making dinner and look over to your spot on the couch for encouragement from my little furry sous chef - but you’re not there. You’re not laying on the ground in front of the TV, or on my yoga mat when I’m stretching. Or my favorite - draped over me like my very own weighted blanket when I’m laying on the couch or in bed. The grief consumes me and I shed some tears, but after a little while, I’m okay again. Maybe in time, these bouts will happen less and less, but it’s okay.
You’re in my heart always.