Sadie

Sadie

Saturday, November 7, 2015

It's been almost a year

When I woke up Halloween morning, I was mostly thinking about the actual day and that J was having a friend over, so we had some cleaning up to do. Then I got on FB, and checked the "On this day" feature, which is great for someone like me, who is very forgetful. Well, on the past few October 31s, I posted pictures of Sadie, because it was her birthday. At least that is when we celebrated it.

I felt sad for not remembering it was Sadie's birthday. And then I felt sadder, knowing she was not with us. I cried for a minute or two. But then I was okay.

This coming Tuesday will mark the one-year anniversary since Sadie has been gone. I can hardly believe it has been that long. Time seems to be going by so quickly anymore.

I am sure I will shed a tear or two that day. I am shedding a few now.

I think it is funny how some people (maybe many) tend to remember the best in things. I recently met some friends for an early dinner. One of my friends dog-sat for Sadie for four days the summer before this one. She asked how Bai was, and I said she was the worst dog ever. And Amy said, "You said the same thing about Sadie." I was surprised. I really did not remember saying that. Sure, at times, I know I did. She did some things that drove me crazy. But to think I regularly said she was the worst dog or that I said that to Amy. I felt bad. But, in a way, good too, knowing that I clearly remember the best about Sadie.

I don't miss her attacking the vacuum cleaner; biting rags, paper towels, and tissues out of my hand; biting the remote downstairs (but not the identical one upstairs). I certainly don't miss how she would growl at J whenever she came into my room when Sadie was lying on the bed. And I mostly try to forget about how sick she was the last few days. I remember well Sadie. I also remember deaf Sadie, and she was kind of funny. But very welcome during her last Halloween. I remember the Sadie that liked to snuggle. The Sadie who would always put her head on my chest when we would lie in bed, whenever I said, "Put your cappy down, Sadie." I remember the Sadie who would bark one bark when she wanted to go outside. I remember the Sadie who had a couple of stuffed animals the last few years of her life that she would pick up, carry around, and toss about, but not destroy. I remember the Sadie who was always happy to see me when I got home. I remember the Sadie who let Jordan dress her up.

Sadie, I miss you.