I grew up with my best friend.
He sat with me when I was sad and looked at me with his big brown eyes as if willing me better. Then we would run around in the garden until one of us was tired (usually me). When he got older and couldn’t jump anymore, I would pick him up and put him on the sofa next to me. I’d stroke his head until he fell asleep and I’d sit there, too scared to move in case I woke him up.
His age brought him good looks. His fur turned grey here and there and he adopted a George Clooney style of being. My mother would feed him and she loved him just as much as I did. She knew that I needed a friend that I could count on and with him, she knew I was in good hands.
I knew that I would have to say goodbye to him soon when he slowed down. He started limping when he came to the gate to meet me and eventually, he stopped coming altogether. My mother could tell that I was hurting but she couldn’t get through to me, I was determined to be stoic. One morning, I went to see him before I left for school and he was gone.
Looking back, I realise now that I hadn’t just lost my best friend, I’d lost a brother. My mother lost a son.
So to all the mother’s out there, I hope you have a lovely time with your babies. Human or not.
To mother’s of fur children – http://wp.me/p3LheF-1NC