I know, I know. I'm supposed to remain detached. I knew when we got him on Memorial Day weekend 2009 that he was temporary. Not staying. Not mine.
I had a job and I knew it: raise this puppy, give him lots of love, lots of novel experiences, and let him learn about the world.
But he crawled into my heart. He's in my veins. I can't make it through the day without getting lost in his ice-blue eyes.
I've gotten oh-so-dependent upon getting snuggled every night. Hearing his sleepy-time grunts. Hearing his sighs as I rub his chin and he falls asleep.
I need to hear his tell-tale sniff, sniff, sniff – his very unique way of saying "I really like this."
I have to have him in bed with me each night. I can't sleep nearly as well if he's not plastered against my leg, hogging 3/4 of the bed.
His silly antics – gangly legs barely keeping him upright as he runs from me with a toy in his mouth. Chasing the birds who always get away. No matter, he still runs after them as if he's never chased them before.
Oh. It's bad. It's really, really bad. Is there any way to make time just stand still? So I can make these few final months together last a lifetime?