Today is four months since Sparkey left us and got his wings. Yesterday, January 1st, was the birthday we chose for him, since we didn't really know when he was born. I'm pretty sure he was born in December of 1992, though, based on when Mary found him and how old the vet thought he was.
The ache for his company is not as strong as it was at first, but I still miss him. He always seemed to be there. He was great fun at the holidays, with shiny and colorful bows stuck to his head, or those humiliating doggie antlers.
Tina does seem lonely sometimes, especially when we come home from a long day at work. Even though a teenage girl from the neighborhood spends an hour with her each afternoon at three, there's no substitute for family. She just doesn't have anyone to talk to when we're gone, but we just don't want another dog---not yet.
I know alot of people feel deeply connected on a soul level with their pets, and I am one of those people. Sparkey was much more than a dog. He was so tuned in to the human world. I still feel his connection to me even now, and I thank him for his loyal service to our family.
Is it morbid to continue to write about him and mourn his passing? Maybe, but it sure is therapeutic, and a nice way to keep his memory alive. Four months apart in the face of almost fourteen years together is such a comparatively brief time. I miss him, and feel his love still.
Four months, and counting.