“He specializes in soft friends", my husband remarked. Those sweet words spoke volumes to me as we drove home from the veterinarian. Our yellow retriever lay in the back, having seen the dental doctor for the second time in a year. Sadly, he would face another round of re-absorption extractions in a few weeks. Oh. My.
A month ago, Eddy's forever companion, his 14-year-old sister, our precious girl, died. We all mourn her passing, each in our own painful way. Even crying has its own special time and reason. I cried because it filled a need. My heart was hurting so. While the emptiness filled our home, Eddy knew something was different. This giant 80 pounds of love was o.k. to walk hither, thither and yon with his teddy, filling his own void in his 10 year habit of carrying toys and being with her. She had been his life coach and now he was alone in this new animal kingdom, a different kind of world now, inhabited by humans.
Upon our return home, that afternoon, he was led into the garage. He stood by the door leading into the house, whimpering softly, for reasons only understood by him. What could he want? As the door opened, in he went, like a man on a mission, the mission being yet another soft comforting friend, this time a soft large pink chickadee. Of course, I thought. The other soft friends were busy, I assumed. One teddy, not soft or easily carried, was of the likeness of the Donald. It was simply watching from afar on the step. Our little guy knew what he was doing. We simply stayed out of his way. That was our job.
Whenever he joined dad in the dining room, Eddy would run to his spot and lie down. Sometimes, friends would accompany him. In this special meeting room, I could see his rabbit, the “Donald”, the turtle, the doughnut, and yummy "cake". Other acquaintances were simply hiding.
His menagerie means alot to him. The
other room - where he and she had slept - attested to that as well.
Soft friends seemed to blanket the room, a place filled with meaning
and love. Dogs' lives were here - on the sofa, on the floor or in
their beds. I would join them, from time to time, a place for
meditation and love all around. They were my world. He is now. Others will join us in the future. Hopefully.
I feel at peace always gazing into their eyes. The eyes tell a story. I would probably be at home at the zoo, cleaning up after the lions, tigers and elephants. I wonder what their soft friends would be? A human perhaps? Chomp. Chomp.
