My Fire Hydrant

I am trying to pick up the threads of my online life, but it’s difficult because Bailey is so deeply embedded in every profile or avatar I’ve ever created.  I haven’t been on Twitter in what seems like years–just don’t have the heart. I’ve tried to catch up on my favorite blogs on Google Reader, but I just loose interest. The closest I’ve come is to enter into a couple of arguments on a couple of forums that I haven’t messed with much in the past. But even there I feel like “Yeah. Right. Whatever.”

As I write this, I’m sitting at my desk. Bailey’s bed is gone from underneath. But I still have the urge to put the plate that had my toast on it down on the floor so she can lick the crumbs off. I am a little desolate that I don’t “see” her–don’t people always say after they’ve lost a family member that they “see” them in the usual places? I sometimes “hear” her–a rustle in the newspapers, like she’s getting ready to rip a piece away and run with it because she knows I’ll chase her to try and take it away so she can’t eat it. Or a soft little inquiring moan, “Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” But I don’t “see” her.

Bit by bit, the little evidences of her life are being moved or disappearing. I have a box of meds on the kitchen table that I’m going to take to the GDHS, along with her left-over bags of food. It’s been there for over a week. Don’t have the energy to do it. We’ve moved her 2 dogbeds into our spare bedroom in preparation for “putting them away.” I don’t have the courage yet to do that with the bed at the foot of my bed. We’ve picked up all the ugly scatter rugs we put down so that she would have sure-footing over the wood floors. The babygate to my mom’s bedroom is now always open, which feels crazy because I know Bailey will get in there and tear into the toilet paper and anything else she finds. Not. I still close the babygate in my bedroom door when I go to bed at night. Not that I needed to for the past 5 years because once the lights were out Bailey would snooze and not get up to explore in the dark.

Oh my girl, I miss you so!