Yes, I still cry every morning and every night. But the public grieving here in my journal is done; those receiving my daily poem may still see it, since writing poems is my therapy. But in this particular realm, it is time to look to this day, and beyond. Besides, Cliff refuses to read my journal as long as it makes him teary-eyed; time for a change of subject.
For years, we've not allowed any house dogs to go into the two carpeted rooms... the living room and our bedroom. That way, if they have an accident or an upset tummy, there's no stain to worry about. Also, back when we established the "no-dogs-on-the-carpet" rule, Cliff would sometimes stretch out in the floor to watch TV. He said he didn't want to worry about whether he was wallowing in dog hair.
Dogs learn to follow this rule very quickly. As a tiny puppy, Mandy knew within twenty-four hours of living here. We just say a sharp "No!" and pick the dog up and put it back in the kitchen. Sadie already understands, after about three reprimands.
But last night when I got up to go to the bathroom, Sadie was on the throw rug beside my bed, sleeping. When my feet hit the floor, her tail started wagging enthusiastically.
"What's it going to hurt," I asked myself, "to have her sleeping near me?"
I couldn't think of one reason she shouldn't be there.
As you can see in the first picture, she is as close to me as she can get right now. I can reach down and pet her easily.
I think she knows her job around here.