Bridie.
We picked up your ashes today, Sam and me. He walked ceremoniously behind the little casket as if he knew it were you and we were bringing you home, heads bowed. We put you beside my bed, where you always slept, your collar and the little card from the vet on top. It was the first night since 'that day' that I've slept, knowing you were back with me. I've wondered everyday since losing you what I miss the most about you, your silly bark, your infectious smile, your deep brown eyes watching my every move, the tiny bald patch on your tail from too much wagging, your hilarious spinning, your predictable bin raiding, the wet patches on the sofa where you've licked it again, your panting in my ear when tying my shoe, your never ending appetite and pinching of the cat's dinner? Most of all, more than anything in the world, I miss your muzzle, your silly, fuzzy, nudging muzzle. It was how you let me know you were here, on walks you would run off to chase a squirrel or greet a friend or just drop behind to sniff something very important but then I'd feel it, your muzzle in my hand as it lay by my side, you were back. In the evening we'd sit on the sofa watching the TV , your muzzle in my hand, then late at night, we'd stand in the garden and watch Sam galloping around in the moonlight, his 2 brain cells working furiously, you would stand next to me, muzzle in my hand, watching. My hand is empty now but if I close my eyes really hard I can still feel your muzzle, soft and warm. I hope one day to open my eyes and look down to see you standing beside me again, muzzle in my hand, waiting to see what happens next. Sleep well my angel and thank you for picking me. X