Maybe it’s just exhaustion, but I found myself caught in a brief dark wave of premature retrospection this afternoon. As she pushes nine years old, I was walking with Kona and battling the painful reality we dog owners all must inevitably face someday with canine mortality. It’s that thing you never want to think about, but, when your guard’s down, can’t help it. I instinctively stopped, took a knee, and gave her a big hug. As hard as you try, it never seems possible to squeeze every drop of meaning out of those one-on-one moments. You love ’em and hug ’em and kiss ’em and schnuggle ’em as hard as you can, but it’s never quite enough, you know? You never feel finished. Hopefully that’s a good thing. I suppose that’s what eternity is all about.
Two things I’ll miss most about my little shiny bear are her ears. They’re to die for. Especially when the wind catches them and they go up like two sails. Here’s a good example of such a moment, caught this afternoon with the cell phone.