Our
beloved Koi lost his battle a few days ago against kidney disease. No matter
how hard I tried to prepare for this loss, heartbreak envelopes me. Entering
the house, I glance for him waiting by the window. No one answers my query, “Want
to check the mail?” with a mad dash out the door. The wonderful Black Box,
which Koi ran to for cheese treats, returns to just being a refrigerator. When
I grab a book and say, “Let’s go outside to read” silence greets my words.
I
woke up the first morning and tossed out old leashes that belonged to both Koi
and Bridget, who died many years ago. I emptied a drawer in the cabinet that
holds urns from other pets to make room for the little white sheet Koi loved to
sleep with as a puppy. I placed his brushes into the same area along with his
first set of bowls. I tossed out the old leashes that both dogs used along with
dog treats and the specialty food Koi never liked.
This morning, I hand washed all of Koi’s
stuffed toys. He loved stuffed animals that made noises when he chewed on them.
Sometimes, we’d ask, “Where’s Baby?” and he’s sort through the pile in his
basket in search of a koala bear that giggled. These toys will dry in today’s
sunshine. I’ll pack them away in a bin along with a few other items that
belonged to Koi.
Koi’s
beautiful spirit graced our family for sixteen years, like all of our pets over
the years. Koi will be our final pet.
Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
No comments:
Post a Comment