Suddenly it’s different. I’m cutting chicken up for a client’s dog and everyone’s there, but you. You’re in the other room, lying down on the futon. Alone and in another world. I’ve never known you to skip a family event especially one involving food preparation. When I can no longer see the knife, I have to stop and wipe away the tears.
You’ve been on the planet 12 years and 3 months. Except for the first of those years, you were with me. I will never forget the first night you were here. I put you in an ex-pen in the kitchen. You wanted no part of being alone, and kept me awake all night saying so. I was stubborn and had the worst night of non-sleep of my life. Night number two and from then on, you slept in the bed.
I missed that first year of yours, and often think about the way it would have been if I’d gotten you first. You’d have floppy ears and a tail you could wag for one thing. And you wouldn’t have had that lingering injured front paw that I was told wouldn’t heal by those who passed you off to me. It’s miraculous what simple bandaging and care can do to a wound like that. You were on all fours in no time. But even before that, you were helping me in the back yard, carrying those tree branches I was cutting down. You knew the spot they needed to be in, so I let you carry out your plan. I was grateful for the help.
So much has gone on from then till now. I realized fast, though, that I’d never know a more personable, charismatic chap. Even when I say, “Not now, Luigi,” you push that adorable, big snout of yours right over my typing arm and onto my chest. I turn around to repeat the “Not now, Luigi,” but those big eyes and your spirit grasp me with a hug and a kiss. You really do have me wrapped around your paw.
That paw, and the other three you have, I have to help up from the floor now much of the time, so you can continue on your way. Why don’t they want to hold you up like they used to? And what happened to the bridge of time I was sure we’d have that would span a good while longer before you and your body got to this point? We’ve been short changed, but I know my tears of protest won’t sway what is to be. My heart will surely break. I’ve been through this before, when suddenly it’s different.
By Helen Verte
Luigi Verte’s Mom
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