This morning KK and I headed in a counter clockwise direction for our walk in honor of Shag. Usually we walk clockwise to the wetland area along the road so that Shag could do her morning business without me having to carry a plastic bag to pick up the poop from a neighbor's yard. This morning, no Shag, no poop, no plastic bag. In fact, earlier this morning, I threw away all the plastic bags I had accumulated in various pockets and shelves just for Shag. I did not want to remind myself of the pain I was feeling over her death. The day is bright and sunny, jet streams are streaked across the azure blue sky. The temperature is cold with early ice returning to Emerald Lake. The winter breezes move the pine trees as the deciduous trees give little resistance to the wind.
Our day is just 24 hours after her death and in someways that she is gone does not seem real to me. I still look around a corner expecting to have to avoid her lying stretched out. I look first at the Retirement Chair and then the living room couch when I come into the room, catching myself expecting to see her. I have removed the rubber bands from the cabinet door handles under the kitchen sink since we don't have a dog anymore who would paw through the garbage spredding it around looking for scraps. I sat eating breakfast this morning expecting to have to remind Shag not to come into the sun room while we are eating there. There are so many small ways that she and myown life have been integrated, it is hard to realize that she is not here.
I am crying now, and I can barely see to type this blog. It is time for me to give it a rest for a while and do something else.
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