We both miss Luke. And Lucy.
The house is quieter, emptier without them. Luke’s presence especially was large and not just because of his size.
We’re adjusting slowly. Some mornings when I go outside to give some love before heading off for work she goes as far away from me as possible and refuses to come. Other mornings she sticks her paw under the gate and whimpers.
The past week and the first few days of the coming one are the busiest of the year for me work-wise. I feel badly that I’ve been gone so much even though I snuck home several times to check on her.
It’s hard to be alone.
I said goodbye to my Lucy Monday. She was 15 years old and a wonderful friend. She came to me battered and bruised and spent the first six weeks I had her recovering physically from what had been done to her at the vets. It took some time, patience and love, but once she decided I was hers, she was as faithful and true as a dog can be. Every afternoon she was waiting for me at the back gate when I came home from work and she was always happy to see me and full of kisses and wags and rubs.
In the middle of the night when the bad dreams came, she was always there next to me, helping and loving as only a dog can.
She will be missed.