Whenever Evan would have bad dreams, he would whimper or whine in his sleep. From the very start, all it took was me laying my hand on him and gently whispering, "Shhh" like you would a baby and he would immediately quiet and settle.
I like to think that touch just made the bad stuff disappear for him in his sleep so he could go back to twitching his little paws instead, running after other puppy dogs, no doubt.
Whenever I would wake from a nightmare, nothing settled me more than clutching his fur beside me and feeling his torso rising and falling as he breathed.
Last night, the dream that woke me was one where there were literally two of me. The first me was out on the trails walking Evan on his red leash, the two of us watching the sunrise over the horizon. The other me seemed to be off in the distance, kind of off in the brush sitting on the ground behind us, but she was shouting at me to stop because he was gone. I looked down at him, and he up at me, and I said, "that was just a bad dream. He's right here beside me." And the other me screamed "LOOK!" and when I turned again, I could see where she was sitting, holding his lifeless body with the light gone out of his eyes. And the first me tried to see him on the end of my leash again and he was, indeed, gone.
There was no fur to clutch to comfort me or rising and falling breath to count.
He is gone.
Irrevocably.
I laid there in the dark tossing and turning until it began to be light. I could tell it was snowing because it was getting lighter earlier than usual.
Evan, we finally got another snow. And you are not here to play with me in it. There will be no tearing up of the backyard today. And I cannot bring myself to step out in it without you.
I like to think that touch just made the bad stuff disappear for him in his sleep so he could go back to twitching his little paws instead, running after other puppy dogs, no doubt.
Whenever I would wake from a nightmare, nothing settled me more than clutching his fur beside me and feeling his torso rising and falling as he breathed.
Last night, the dream that woke me was one where there were literally two of me. The first me was out on the trails walking Evan on his red leash, the two of us watching the sunrise over the horizon. The other me seemed to be off in the distance, kind of off in the brush sitting on the ground behind us, but she was shouting at me to stop because he was gone. I looked down at him, and he up at me, and I said, "that was just a bad dream. He's right here beside me." And the other me screamed "LOOK!" and when I turned again, I could see where she was sitting, holding his lifeless body with the light gone out of his eyes. And the first me tried to see him on the end of my leash again and he was, indeed, gone.
There was no fur to clutch to comfort me or rising and falling breath to count.
He is gone.
Irrevocably.
I laid there in the dark tossing and turning until it began to be light. I could tell it was snowing because it was getting lighter earlier than usual.
Evan, we finally got another snow. And you are not here to play with me in it. There will be no tearing up of the backyard today. And I cannot bring myself to step out in it without you.
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