Writing

This will be the first Christmas without Cha-Cha, without Chew Toy, and with Comet. My heart breaks when I think about them, and when I hear about other people who have lost pets of their own. A friend told me about how he lost his dog not too long ago, it’s the only time I’ve ever heard his voice break, and the only time he’s ever gotten me to cry. There’s that emptiness in our hearts where they used to be. It grows a little smaller with time, but it never goes away. Not completely. And our eyes start to tear up when we think how they won’t be there to greet us when we come home.

But can you ever think of a time your dog wanted you to be sad? Did your cat ever jump in your lap to be petted because it wanted you to feel alone? No, they wanted you to be happy, to know they loved you with everything they had, and to be with you always. Unfortunately, it can’t be that way. It seems so unfair humans must outlive those who love them the most, that there will always come the day we must say good-bye. I talk to so many people who are terrified of that day, and I don’t blame them in the least. I know it’s coming, and I dread it with every fiber of my being. But we can’t worry about the inevitable. They don’t, and we shouldn’t either. Instead, cherish every moment you have with them. Take the time out of your day to play with them, and make sure they know they’re as special to you as you are to them.

Just because we have Comet now, doesn’t mean I love Cha-Cha any less. Just because you bring a new animal home doesn’t mean you’re replacing the one you lost. Because you can’t replace them. But they wouldn’t want you to be alone. So it’s okay, find the animal that needs you and bring them home. I promise your heart has room for them both.

This Christmas, it’s okay to miss those who are gone. It’s impossible not to. But don’t dwell on it. Your furry friend wouldn’t want that. They aren’t there to lick away your tears anymore, so save those for the day you have someone there who can. You’ll always love them, they’ll always love you. You’ll always miss them, but it’s okay. They’ll always be with you. Hold on to the good memories, and try to forget the day they destroyed the new sofa. Don’t mourn their deaths, celebrate their lives. They may not be with us anymore, but they’re always in our hearts.

Wheels Keep on Turnin’

7:30 the music starts upstairs. Her room’s right next to the driveway so I can hear it. Its a very different than what normally comes out of the radio when we’re flying down the road. Disney songs and Superchick, as opposed to the randomness of Jack FM. Eight o’ clock she’s out the door, some days 8:30, depending on which class is first. We back out the driveway and climb the big hill at the end of the street at twenty miles an hour, I’m old and I don’t like to go much faster. Not up that hill. Way too steep.

We go down the other side and make a crazy turn and another. Over the rail road tracks and to the stop light. Middlebrook to Hardin Valley. Another crazy turn and past the soccer fields, and we’re at school. Right up to the door and she hangs the handicap tag on my rear view mirror. She dashes inside after locking my doors, wondering why she bothers. A 1985 Chevy Astro, who’s gonna mess with a tank with a rusted roof? Her friends walk by and I hear one say, “There’s the Blumobile. Chelsea must be here.”

Then I sit and wait for a couple hours. Half the time she’s left her books in here so I don’t know what she does. She likes this school, she likes her classes. I think anyway. I know she likes her friends, because when she comes back, they’re with her. The red headed girl, the boy with the white hat and the blonde guy with the Mohawk. We get on the Parkway and head to Turkey Creek. Fight the traffic and soon we’re getting food, or shopping. Walmart and the bookstore are the most frequented, but some days they just wander with me in tow. The girl gets cold and the heat’s flicked on, I squeal in response and Chelsea fusses, patting my dashboard next to her makeshift GPS. We head back to school, with what feels like twelve yards to merge back in going sixty miles an hour. Back into the parking lot and she normally has to double take this time, making sure the red tag is hanging there. Back inside and I wait, half empty drink cups in my holders.

She dashes back out, grumbling about her class, and jumps inside. She scrambles to put the key in the ignition and pulls the tag down. We speed off together, jumping back on the parkway. It always seems like we’re in a hurry, but now we actually are. She doesn’t like to be late for work, even though she’s not crazy about being early. Ten minutes working for free isn’t a lot, until its added up across the week.

She leaves me outside, parked across from her boss’s car. I can see in the window. She sweeps and cleans, and when she’s lucky, plays with the puppies. Customers come in to get their dogs and she checks them out, chit chatting and giving the dogs a final hug. They walk out with a smile and talking to their child, delighted with the grooming and their service.

Five o’clock, the sun is setting, and I’m waiting to go home. She’s almost done most days, unless she’s stuck waiting on somebody’s momma. And then I wait too, until she comes out with the ding of the door. The lock clicks shut and she dashes back to me, fumbling to unlock the door and her teeth chattering. She turns the key and throws me into gear, quicker than I’d like but we’re both eager to get home. We drive off, speeding down the pike again and turning off onto the widening back roads. Down the hill and into the driveway. She jumps out and we’re greeted by two voices barking, and one white cat trying to climb inside. She shuts my door and heads inside, dragging the kitty with her. The dogs rush out and she watches them as they do their business, and has to chase one to get him inside.

She goes in and the door slams shut. I hear the water cut on as she showers to get rid of the fur. Then its to the computer and I hear the keyboard clacking all night and sometimes into the morning. The television cuts off, she’s gone to sleep and her timer kicked in.

And I wait for her to get up so we can do it all over again.

Afraid to Leap

Somehow I know I’ll never be able to say it to your face
But whenever I see you, my heart starts to race
I thought I should let it go
Thought it’d be better if you didn’t know
Since you know my history
But then I realized in your arms is where I wanna be
So now I’m trying to keep my thoughts to myself
Filling you in won’t help
I’m trying to keep a grip
Because once I let this thought slip
Nothing will ever be the same
I’ll never hear your name
Without kicking myself for letting you get away
But I’m too afraid once you know, you won’t want to stay
When you’re gone, I don’t know what I’ll do
Haven’t you noticed my smile is because of you?