When a dog leaves...

The puppy arrives. We coo. He sleeps, eats, poos... a lot. Sometimes we forget he is there. He's so small. We haven't made space for him in our consciousnesses yet. We know we will love him for who he has been made to be, but for now when we can't see him we forget he is there. That's the way with new things. It takes a while for them to find space within us. 

Day by day he will reveal himself in all his colour and empathy and presence. 

And one day we will wonder how we ever cooked a meal without falling over him. How we faced heartache and depression without his knowing eyes. How we slept without his protection. How we were a family without him as a part of it.

And then he will be gone. 

Dogs don't go into perjury. There is little spiritual wrestling in a dog's death because they are born perfect and remain so, eternal reminders of the spirit that inhabits Heaven. 

And the presence who came so discreetly and unobtrusively into our lives will be what we miss most when we can no longer see it. 

And the space they made within us will be empty. And we will never forget.