I Miss Her

She was only a puppy when we found her. She was wandering the street right in front of our family van. We took her into the house with us, and I gave her a piece of salami. She was weaned, but still a puppy. Giving her the food made her imprint on me. I became her mommy at that moment. I would, for the next fourteen years, be the most important human in her life.

We tried to find out where she came from. The vet information on her collar suggested she was part of a large commercial batch. The local pet store guy didn’t know about her, but he said they had probably already reported her lost to the insurance company when we found her. She decided to adopt us.

She hated to be left alone. She turned over trash cans and ripped up rippable stuff to show her anger. She had a habit of snorting whenever she was disgusted by the fact that sometimes I didn’t give her what she wanted. She could get whatever she wanted from my two sons and my daughter.

No one in my life was ever happier to see me and be with me. I did almost all of the dog walking in her life. She looked to me for comfort when she was sad or ill. She was not allowed to sleep in my bed, yet she slept there many nights.

Her name was Jade. We lost her to cancer in June a year ago.

Today I saw her in the kitchen. She wagged her tail once and disappeared.

I miss her.