Lost

I guess people get used to what they have.  I have images in my head now.  A belief in spirits, especially his.  At first when it wasn't his body in the car with me, it burned through my heart.  But I got used to it. 

One night I dreamed of Jory with the Christmas tree that was meant to be his first.  He was pulling the orbs out of their little hook hats.  How nice of us to put forbidden balls up for him!  "No, Jory, you can't chew that."  He pulls a small one while I replace the first.  And he had that mischievous glint in his smile, the craning body that he could contract to prove he was good all along.  But he was relaxed, going around my back like ball snatching was fine.  Fanning his tail at this game.  "Ah-!  Hey!  Cut that out, you stinker!"  Then someone impatiently wanted my attention, and the dream moved away.

Another night I dreamt of the lake we'd walked around in Como Park, I was sobbing how he could never come back.  How could people be so callous, to bring me there thoughtlessly?  Didn't they realize what it meant?  Sorry, they hadn't thought it through.

I have the feeling and images of him, it's hard to be too sad when I'm awake.  Though at night the grit of reality makes my breath short.  It's pain in the situation, dislike, guilt, and sorrow blending into tangible regret.  Time makes us so powerless.

We've passed the days that I had hard plans for him.  That, and the length of his absence make it easier to accept that I won't see him in another day I live.  I just wanted to make him happy for 16 years, but I would have accepted 14.  Now I can hardly imagine it, the confidence I had that we'd be together so long.  He was a pillar of my life, it was natural to assume I wouldn't leave him.  This... I was so careless.  Too proud.  The shock collar was in his bed.  "This could have saved him."  "Ha!  It's just a tool for good TRAINERS.  Take a look in the mirror and say the same thing about your FACE before you blame this collar."  Drop the mic.  I agree with other me.  I need to stand up and be better for my dog.

I'm moving on, internalizing my scars.  It's life, I can't be too mad at myself for being a viable creature.  My miserable dreams... They can't contain the WRONGNESS of his stolen time.  The price he paid for my decisions and our bad luck is the worst, but I can't conceive the depth of it, I'm too small.

At least I'm remembering more happy memories.  I'll be the crazy lady talking to nothing.  If it's really him and makes him feel special, then any embarrassment is worth it.

We are meeting his baby brother soon. It will be good to give again.  He has a lot to learn!  And Jory wasn't done breaking me in.