A little Reprieve

I've survived my first day puppysitting a little unruly Boston Terrier ... and oh my, this little rascal is nothing like Sparks, which is probably a good thing. Not only must he be the most hyper dog I've ever encountered, he's also never heard the word NO, I'm pretty sure of that. But he's cute as a button, so that makes up for all his bullying.

It's been good getting out and doing things with Charlie, the BT. I'm staying at my friends nice apartment, close to the beach, and we've already established a little routine. Most of the time I'm just plain busy chasing him, or being chased by him. Hardly ever do I get time to reflect on how different he is. There was a moment earlier, when I just thought how nice it would be to have a mellow Sparks by my side, walking without a leash, eager to please. I looked at Charlie and he gave a little sneeze, as if he was disapproving my thoughts. I suddenly had to think about how funny Sparky sounded when he sneezed. It usually was loud and intense, and it always made me laugh, especially since his whole body would shake in the aftermath. I would always exclaim "Gesundheit, my sweet!" and Sparky would look at me, almost with a little smile. I realized that moment that I would never have the chance to say that again, at least not to my sweetheart. It took a lot for me not to start crying right at the beach, but I managed, because Charlie quickly pulled me out of my thoughts. I think the trick lies in not thinking about how it would 'never' happen again, but just to think about, "okay, it's not happening today" ... It goes right alongside the overused phrase of "one day at a time" but it's true. If I think ahead, and look at the tremendous loss and what changes are happening (most of them I don't like) then nothing good will come of it. It just throws me deeper into my despair. So I will try and stay in the moment. It's still tough to think about how a life like Sparky's can be over so quickly, just gone. It's seems weird that there is nothing else? That's why I can't quite believe it sometimes ... Anyway, I'm pretty sure Sparky would have gone crazy around Charlie, hah. Sparkers was a lover, but little dogs would make him nervous. It was always cute how he'd try to gingerly step away from dogs like Charlie.

You know, what I really like about this puppy sitting gig is the puppy smell. Charlie has this doggy scent that I've missed so much. Of course it's nothing like Sparky's, but it's similar and it's comforting ... Speaking of which, that little spot in front of the TV where carpet meets tiles, where the boy used to lie, it still smells like him. I don't think I'll ever be able to vacuum there ...

And since we've already talked about weird topics (or at least insinuated), such as "there must be more than just death" ... I'm starting to think that maybe stuff 'is' going on ... There's this one particular song that came on the radio one day, in Sparky's final days, and I remember thinking about how it kinda fit us, how it was sad, but how it somehow felt right ... it wasn't an exact match, and it certainly wasn't about a human and a canine, but it was 'us'. Anyway, this same song has been coming on the radio whenever I am in my car ... I tend to change the channel right to it every day, at least twice ... I tend to think that my little angel is giving me a sign ... Yes, the song is sad, and I want to sob when I hear it, but it's also 'us' and I feel it connected us then, and it still connects us now ... and that's all I want these days.

Have a good weekend everyone.

Hugs from Sparky's Mom.