It's getting better

I did OK at work today, at least until a co-worker, just before I left for lunch, handed me an envelope addressed to both me and mom. I told her I'd open it in the car, and good thing I did, because it opened some waterworks. Her daughter picked it out, she said. They lost a dog themselves not too long ago, one not very old even, so they know how I feel.

The hardest is being at home. Nipper was so much a part of what we did around here. Get up in the morning, let him out, let him in, share part of breakfast. When I got home from work, I took him for a walk. Now, I don't really know what to do with myself in the evenings. I picked up a couple of books at the library, but I don't feel like reading. I did make myself get on the exercise bike for about 10 minutes. I need some exercise, after all. I suppose I should go for a walk on our usual routes at some point -- there are several people we saw on a fairly regular basis who would want to know Nipper is no longer with us. Like the "cheese lady" who, when she saw us walking by would go inside her house and come back out with a slice of cheese for Nipper. If she wasn't outside, he would slow down as we walked by and stop to sniff whatever he could, occasionally glancing at her door. Then there's the boy who, at first, seemed kind of lonely, and liked to pet Nipper, and we would talk occasionally. He has more friends now, but would always stop to pet Nipper.

And of course, there's the pizza guy. Probably won't feel like ordering pizza for awhile, though. He would wave at us if he saw us out walking.

Reflecting on this makes me realize Nipper wasn't just "my" dog. He shared at least a little bit of himself with people who loved me or just knew me, even remotely. That's quite a dog.