A Week Without Him- Henry

A week  without him here

The little foam padded cradle beside the wood stove now is occupied by another dog, sometimes a cat. They switch.

His place in my heart though is a gap no one can complete. Rain and cold weather outside increase my misery and abandonment feeling.  I go to the window and look (through the rain) to the place where he was buried, under the white floss silk tree roots beside the place where Sissi Yellow was buried three years ago. In bitter tears I have planted two seedlings of flowers, one of them is already blooming, I can see. 
Although I know Henry, his spirit, his essence is not there in that cold place a pain bite crosses my heart. I know, I know he does not feel cold, he does not feel discomfort or pain anymore… He does not feel anything…

He does not feel anything. This “no longer be” kills me, crushes me, tears me apart.

“Ah, IT was only a dog” – People will say if they know about the despair which has overcome me. 

No. No. HE WAS NOT ONLY A DOG. He was my friend, the most powerful partner, the one who was able to understand me only through the eyes, through breath and voice tone. My Henry. My king. My partner that used to go everywhere with me. 

He was not the same. He used to take expensive medicines which could never miss. Many other things could be missing here in our house, but not his medicine. Unaware of any noise, unconcerned about his friends’ barks, he was not fond of laps, armchairs or human beds anymore.  

First, he used to ask to go outside for potty time. 
First, so polite, so neat, so worried about cleaning in the last days he would do it anywhere. Everything he wanted was his bed, this one here beside the wood stove.  He only felt comfortable in this bed which now other dogs and cats lie down. Other cats and dogs that one day, I do not know when, will abandon me as well.