So, it was easy not to think about bear bait when I was in Berlin at my last school session for 2 weeks. Once someone asked about her and naturally I cried, so they changed topics at the first chance and I was relieved because I am not ready to discuss, at least not without a big box of kleenex nearby.
Coming home was another story. I started to cry when the plane landed and I imagined walking into the house and not being greeted by her. Now I tear up every time I think she is going to be racing me to the door, or waiting for me to come in or lying under my feet and she isn't or won't be. Even this morning, I hesitated to put the hallway light on becuase I am always trying to choose the light that will disturb her the least when I am not ready to come downstairs and let her out of her crate. The crate is still there, and I am working up the stomach to toss her old bed in the trash and collapse and crate for storage in case there is some other dog in my future, which there probably will be. Doglessness feels so weird, but in a bad way.
I wish I knew if she was happy in heaven or just that I did the right thing by having the vet put her down. When I talked about bear bait with my cleaning lady and told her I had taken some photos of bear bait at the end and could see her face wasn't right, either the pain or the drugs had deadened her eyes and stolen her light, the cleaning lady said she had seen the same loss the last time she saw bear bait. If bear bait could only send me a message and let me know that she is running in the grass and happily rolling in mud and deer poop all the while lapping up muddy puddles and happy as a puppy then I would feel better about everything.
I am going to cull all of my many bear bait photos together and make a nice coffee table book. It won't be the story of her life, just some photos of her stepping into my landscape photos, always making them better, or frolicking so adorably that I just had to press the shutter. Doing this will make me happy.
My next dog better like being in front of the camera.
Comments