Panda

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 Dad oh, Dad my puppy Panda has died. I feel so lost without her, I had her for 15 years. You remember how hard it always is on me to lose a pet. My heart is completely broken. I don't know how to move on, how to live without her. She was the sole of my days and the joy in each morning. I tell everyone I'm fine - but I am not. I cry way too much. Every day is lost in the memory of her. Someone told me to write about her, I wrote this:  

When

Panda's little paws no longer bump down the hallway with me at night to go to ni-night. She no longer warms her half of my queen-sized bed. She is everywhere, in every room: a shallow grass basket sits conspicuously on the floor by the TV stand, filled to overflowing with small brightly colored squeaky toys that Panda loved and played with. Some of the toys lay scattered over the floor waiting for her return. 

Medications that had become a controlling part of every day for Panda remain divided and secluded within their separate cavities of the daily pill containers. The actual pill bottles stand, or have toppled over in the plastic tote, the lid askew as it was the last day I spent with Panda. 

A dusty pink sweater (Panda's favorite) has been carefully placed at the head of the bed, not far my pillow. Curiously, the scent of her sweater now includes not only Panda's light doggy musk, but the scent of candy, too. I often wake in the night and feel the need to reach out to her to touch her and my fingers touch only her sweater. Sometimes, it's not enough and I cannot stop the flow of tears that follow.

Even my car is filled with the essence of sweet Panda. The floor is scattered with brightly colored matching harnesses and leashes. Winter sweaters with sock booties that were folded and placed on the back seat remain there as if waiting for enough snow for them to be of use. I know if I lift the consol lid, I will see Panda’s sunglasses and rabies tag and portable water bowl. 

Even Panda's playpen remains standing in my small living room as if she will again need it when she is not feeling well and shouldn't be allowed to jump on the couch. I have not removed the "puppy pad", the soft blanket, or her comfy oversized pillow. Also, I cannot find the courage or will to remove any of her little round or square fluffy beds that still dot her presence on the floors throughout my house. 

Some of my friends and family are worried that I should be moving forward, others suggest I should grieve in my own time and I will remove Panda's things when I'm ready to remove them. I try every day, or at least I think about trying every day to gather up her things, but always end up with...

Maybe tomorrow.

Oh, Dad, I have lost you both now. If there is a heaven, find my little Panda and introduce her to your little Ralphy. I can't stand the thought of her being alone until I get there.