Now who will eat my yolks?

I found myself asking this question today on what was the first day home after a long trip abroad. While I was gone, my sidekick of 16 years lost her battle with time. Succumbing to the perils of old age and mortality my dog, Sadie Su, took her last car ride on Thursday while I was half a world away. I knew this day would come, after all, I studied philosophy and religion which means I typically think about death and other morbid things equally, if not more, than I think about life. (It's one of the perqs they don't tell you about when you decide on a major as an undergraduate.) But her death was unexpected and abrupt nonetheless.

Needless to say, things have been eerily quiet around the homestead in the last 24 hours. It's hard to believe that one can mourn over an animal this much but I think any pet owner can attest to the happiness and joy brought by the presence of our domesticated, usually 4 legged, friends - as well as the devastation and utter sadness upon their exit from this mortal realm.

I like to think that Sadie was unique. Well I know she was and I am not saying that because I am biased, I truly believe that she was special. I feel so lucky to have had her as my companion for 16 long years. I picked her out at the SPCA when I was 12, and begged and begged my mom and dad to let me take her home. A few days later, this all black, fuzzy dog with big brown eyes, a curly tail, and black tongue officially had a family - and as the years went by the interactions became more human like. (I am still convinced she was a human trapped in a mutt's body.)

She was such a smart pooch and had the personality of a spoiled princess, but I think that may have been my fault.....

The last two years were amazing. We followed each other around and shared most meals. For breakfast I would make eggs and she would eat the yolk, I would eat the whites. It worked out brilliantly!

I wish I could have been there, to look her in the eyes and let her know that everything would be ok and to hold her and make sure she felt comfortable and loved, but I couldn't. There may be a twinge of guilt present in my subconscious that I am sure I will have to deal with through many years of therapy later, but.....:) My mother was with her, and I know she was ready, I hope she heard my comforting words when I said goodbye to her via Skype. (Seriously, what has this world come to that I am saying farewell to my dog via an internet video chat service?)

Now is the time for healing and remembering. Her collar sits on my windowsill where she used to love to look out, waiting for my arrival home. I miss her terribly and love her very much, but that is the beauty of life - days of sadness born out of so many years of happy memories and joy. I couldn't have asked for more.

So now, it is time for crying and grieving and reminiscing and finding someone else to eat my yolks.