Changing Seasons

This morning at 9:30am Cheddar took his last breath as he was put to sleep. My daddy was there with me to give and receive my sweet furry. And while there is a hurt in knowing that his lifeless body awaits his burial when Matt gets home tonight in it’s shoe box, there is this sweet peace that I did all that I could do for him. That we did all that we could do for him.

The house is quite quiet today. But Dakota provides good company, especially for this “not a dog person.” The game of fetch has provided much comfort and her movement about the house has helped me a lot. Makes me want to hug her a little closer sometimes.

I miss him. But there is a strange normalcy in this lack thereof. Seasons are changing. The leaves turning colors and the air a bit crisp today.

The wind welcomes my thoughts as I sit on the rusty rocker outside. Dakota running about the yard. And there has been much to think of, and a few good friends to talk to on the inconsistent volume of our land-line. Grocery shopping to be done. The familiar kicks from inside. And the thoughts of how much these seasons really are changing. And how much they have already changed. I said goodbye to my furry today and have cried a few times missing him. But again there’s this weird reminder that nothing that I expected is anything like I expected. And for the first time in a while I am reminded yet again that I have no idea what spring will bring, not even the consistency of the flowers.

Family has taken on new meaning over the past week. Priorities anew. And there’s this odd feeling of choice in and amongst the chaos.

Seasons are changing. And Dakota and I are going to go outside to watch. What we’re looking for, I’m not sure. But watch we must. For tomorrow it may all be different.