posted on Nov, 4 2015 @ 10:04 PM
Tomorrow for my big furry buddy, and I.
Brodie is my sisters big, big dog. He's an Australian shepherd mixed with something really, really big.
We've been friends since the moment we met, some twelve years ago, though it seems like just yesterday. Maybe it was. He was a rescue who'd been
abused to within an inch of his life--and didn't really trust anyone...except me. We took to each other instantly.
I was living with my sister sometime later and I'd come home from work, and my sister told me he'd perk up his ears a good three or four minutes
before I'd pull into the drive-way, then would amble over to the door to wait for me. He was there waiting every morning when I'd get home.
Sometimes he'd have nightmares, flashing back to those bastards who had him before, and I'd have a lap full of shaking, shivering dog. 100 plus
pounds of frightened dog. He'd just huddle in my lap for a few minutes, then like nothing happened go about his business.
As he grew older, his hearing failed, he no longer hears my car pull up. His eye sight is almost as bad. ...and the senility has reduced him to a
caricature of what he once was. But he still loves putting his head in my lap, he's there as I type this, to get the special spot between his eyes
rubbed. Though it's a little tear soaked tonight...
Tomorrow morning I'm going to take him for a drive. He's in so much pain. His dignity, which means so much to him, is all but gone.
We really hoped he'd just fall to sleep one night, and join with the angels. But his heart just won't let go. So I'm going to help him on that
first step along that rainbow bridge I know is waiting for him to cross.
One last drive. Some more scratches on that special spot between the eyes, and he'll leave me...for now.
This time tomorrow night another star will be shining down from Gods firmament, that'll be Brodie. He won't be a tripping hazard late at night
anymore. The floor won't creak underpaw anymore while he's trying so hard to be sneaky, so he can steal my sammich.
Those things I'll miss, but most of all, I'll miss that huge head in my lap waiting for scratches, or his ears rubbed. Or a hug when I need it.
...and I'll need it desperately tomorrow night, and it won't be there. The living room will be safer, but so very empty. The floor won't creak,
but it'll be a silence that screams to be filled.
Oh, Brodie, my furry friend. Pain's sucrease is only hours away. One day, we'll meet again, and that special spot will be rubbed by me again.
I hope God is a sharing sort, 'cause if he leaves his milk out, Brodie will help himself. ...and sammiches. He loves sammiches.