JADE

Writers have a tendency to write about what they are passionate about. We’re emotional creatures by nature. And no matter what we’re writing about or what we’re writing for our loves shine through in the form of words. 

And today, I do not write for you (the reader), I do not write for anybody but myself. I’m draw to the scrawl, because writing feels like the only way I can capture, or try to get around what is going on in my pea of a brain.

Jade…..

I cannot even begin to describe who she is. If you know her, you truly knew a great friend. A great companion that was there for you, barking in the window as you came home from a long day of school, work or whatever else you might have been doing. For 12 years, or 84 years depending on who you are, day-in and day-out there was a rock in my life, and she never failed to be there and change my day for the better.

I remember her as a puppy, and she never lost that unbridled enthusiasm over her many rambunctious years. The tail-wagging sensation that could turn any moment into a playful game of fetch, or chase, or tug-o-war.

(Writing this in the past tense makes this so damn hard for me, because there was a time when this was how it was. This was every day, this WAS…. And it only remains as IS in my mind.) 

The memory of her is like the beacon of a distant lighthouse that will remain in my life. She will always be there, and maybe that is what will help me get through this. There is no way that I can let her go, like holding on to her for dear life as she sees the rabbit ahead, no way I can’t keep her with me.

Jade there is nothing more I can ask of you. Not a single day that I could go back and wish that you would come push that cold nose underneath my arm and nuzzle your way so far in that I had my arm around you. Because that did happen every day.
 
Miss my dog, I miss Jade.