I still miss Teddy. I miss how he used to groan in the recliner when I stayed up too late and he wanted us to go to bed. I miss having his fur floating everywhere, even settling into what I cooked. Sometimes I’d stick a finger into Mike’s tea to pluck out one of those wavy little fluffs. Don’t tell him I did that. I even miss how Seth would give him the side-eye and he’d slide off the couch away from me and not daring to look into my eyes. The cats were always his boss. He was happy to be a minion, Omega-Dog, the lowest in the ranks. He was mine, so deeply mine. Always.
I miss the way he loved being towel-dried on days the rain soaked through his thick coat. Toward the end, I’d bring out a towel if it sprinkled and he came home even a tiny bit damp. I miss his clean-dog smell, his dirty-dog smell, his breath.
I miss dog breath.
If you’ve ever been loved by THAT dog, then you’ll know what I mean.
The house just doesn’t feel the same without him in it.
Thanks for listening, jules