Twenty-three

On this day last year...

...I said good bye to my very best friend. My good girl.

The twenty-first was an awful day.
The twenty-second was unbearably trying.

But the twenty-third...

I think about that day often. I can't believe she's been gone for a year. I have been dreaming about her this week and she's very much on my mind. The four years we were together were far too short. I love Peanut, but I hate that her coming into our lives was preceded by losing B.

A year later, I can feel myself forgetting small things about her. I need to look at photos to remember some of her markings. The look on her face when she wanted something. What it felt like when she gave me those rare kisses.

I do remember a lot. The way she would sit on my feet when she was nervous. How she'd put her head on my shoulder from behind me. The face she made when I'd scratch her chin. How her face felt when I held it between my hands. But I know that will also fade...

I wish I could see her again. Let her climb up into my lap (all 75 pounds of her!). Wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her soft neck. Rub her ears. Kiss her smooshy face.

I know I've said all of this before: She was just a dog. But she loved me in a way no one else will ever love me. She came to me when I most needed her, and I miss her every single day.