Here we are on Tuesday. Sparkey's body has been in the ground for three days. A candle glows on his grave every night.
It is so difficult to fully take in the fact that he's gone, that this thirteen-year physical relationship, so grounded in the physical world, is over as we knew it. Walks, food, snacks, water, affection---it all revolved around his needs and ours. It was mutual regard, love, and loyalty. That has not changed, but his warm body is the missing piece in the equation, and that is the change most difficult to embrace.
To the left is the final photograph taken of Sparkey alive, no more than two hours before the vet arrived on Saturday afternoon. After a walk around the block, he sat on the driveway---as was his wont---and just wanted to watch the world go by. Rene teased him with a stick, playing with a line of drool---that ubiquitous drool (in these latter days, anyway)---that fell from his old man's dog-lips. He seems content in this photo, playing with his human brother.
Tina seems to be adjusting well, although how she'll be when we both return to work tomorrow remains to be seen. After finishing her dinner tonight she immediately ran over to Sparkey's old spot by the 'fridge to see if there were any morsels she could scarf up, but his bowl is no longer there. Ten years they spent side by side every day and night. How this will be for her in the long run remains to be seen. For now, we lavish her with love and affection.
This will be a long road.