What Do Dogs Know?

Pepsi's Paw Print

Dear Pepsi,

Life in the aftermath is so empty and awkward. We ache from top to bottom. We are lost without you as our center. Pearl seems ill at ease with all the attention she is getting, she is more comfortable fading in the background with you at forefront. She always deferred to you, happily taking second place. Pandy is her usual confused and terrified self, in response and reaction mode to everything around her. I feel irritated and profoundly sad. I still cannot sleep, waking up in the middle of the night with hours of you on my brain. Sometimes I succumb to uncontrollable sobbing, or I watch Netflix for several hours until I catch a few hours sleep. I am often dazed and confused, forgetting appointments and disengaged when I am in attendance. I ask myself if I will ever feel joy again, which to some may seem silly; however, for me it is a legitimate question. Life feels flat and it's hard to give a damn and stay in the world of the living. I just miss you so much baby girl. 

 Mom and Pepsi selfie

Pearl and Pandy missing Pepsi

Yesterday we picked up your ashes and paw print. Dad, Jonathan and I took Pearl and Pandy with us to Higgins Beach to scatter some ashes at your beloved beach. It was a brisk day with the sun peeking through the clouds, though luckily it was not very windy.  Pearl and Pandy took off to chase birds. I brought the tennis ball you played with last week and tossed it along the shore for them to fetch. Pearl frequently paused, looking around, either for birds to chase or you. I think she is looking for you. What do dogs know? We impose what we hope and want you to know and think, but really, what do dogs know? You always knew when I was traveling when you saw my suitcase and made your displeasure known. There were all sorts of indication you and your sisters had more than a good idea of what was going on, and how you felt. Did you know how much I loved you? How hard I tried to keep you here? Did you know how helpless I felt? You stared back at me from eyes that felt like deep pools, and I wondered if you knew that there was nothing I wouldn't do for you, even let you go if that was what you needed of me. 

  Your beloved Higgins Beach

The three of us huddled at the water's edge. Jonathan slipped his arm around me as I read the Rainbow Bridge poem choking back tears. We each took a small amount of your ashes. I wore my Muck boots and waded into the waves, releasing your ashes into the sea as I called your name, hoping you could hear me tell you how much I love and miss you. Pepsi girl I want you back - at Higgins, in the dead of night in my bed, and when I walk through the front door. We are all bumping into each other and against each other. The edges are jagged and painful. Your outline is everywhere. Pearl seems depressed. Or perhaps she is responding to our somber mood. What do dogs know? How does she process life without you? Does she think you will return or does she know you are not coming back? Does she see the box of ashes on the fireplace mantle with your name on it? Or is her sense of your absence on a whole other level? I know this; however, we want you back. Something fierce. 

Jonathan carrying the box of Pepsi's ashes 

Dad missing his Pepsi girl

Your sisters romping on your beloved Higgins Beach 

What would you say to me if you could send me a message? Stop crying and blubbering in public? Buck up Mom, you did your best and my sisters need you? Spread the love you have from to others in need? Or perhaps you might tell me you miss me too, unbearably so, but even that much love was no match for fast-moving cancer. You should know that everyday I try to treasure what I have and feel appreciative for the ten plus years we had together. I can't help that life without you seems less vivid,  humorous, warm, and worthwhile. I know it makes me seem ungrateful but you are one of a kind baby girl with your cheeky diva like ways. What other dog sits on a desk in front of computer and keyboard to let me know it is time to stop working and focus on you? What else could I do but pack you and your sisters in the car and go to Walnut  Creek Park? You were irresistible - even when you annoyed me, and I predictably gave in to your demands. So tell me girl, what do you want me to do now? Help me figure out how to go on without you, to see past you not being here and feel joy again. 

Pepsi on my desk

I want you back. I know cannot have that. So I will keep writing to you in whatever dimension you exist. If you are meandering happily as the Rainbow Bridge poem suggests, then perhaps I can take heart in knowing you are happy, at peace and one day we will be reunited. Pepsi, that is something to look forward to dear girl. In the meantime, I will do my best to honor you by living life and giving to others. It is the least I can do after all you have given me.

Loving you as always,

Mom