Change of Routine

Once upon a time, when Herself got up in the middle of the night, she would do so quietly lest she disturb the big dogs.  Thorbert was easily awoken; he always seemed to feel that it would be a good idea to go outside if Herself was already up, and Herself tried to avoid late-night trips down the stairs and into the backyard.  After Thorbert's passing, Herself would nevertheless still tiptoe so that she would not startle hard-of-hearing Daisy.  Daisy was old and tired and her bones would ache; Herself tried very hard to ensure that Daisy could remain slumbering and at ease momentarily from her pains. 

Now Herself need not be so tentative.  The space at her feet, occupied so long by Thorbert (and on occasion by Daisy), is now a void into which Herself can sadly stretch out to full length.  The couch at the foot of the bed looks sadly vacant in the dark without Daisy, all four paws pointed haphazardly at the ceiling, grumbling and sighing in her sleep. There is no black and white dog to be found anywhere. 

When Herself goes downstairs in the morning, she need not let any dogs out - Tiny Dog sleeps with Offspring the Third, and does not appear until later.  The large water bowl is noticeably absent from its former spots in the kitchen. The dishwasher need not be protected from canine licking.  No pills need be hidden in peanut butter for canine administration. The couches are bare.  Herself pauses in between tasks to check and see if any dogs need come in from outside, before she remembers that she need not do so anymore.  Ingrained habits. 

Cooking has lost a bit of joy, for there is no big dog to whom to give a carrot or a slice of apple or a bit of meat.  Tiny Dog does her best to stand near and look interested in case a morsel falls, but her diminutive form is insufficient to be a good food preparation companion. At bedtime, there is no need for one last trip outside, no whistling or calling for a big dog to join us going up the stairs.  No jostling for bed space.  No ottoman-shaped dog attempting to co-opt Beloved Husband's pillow.  No giant dog wanting to burrow under the covers. Their company is so very noticeably absent. 

Daisy and Thorbert provided warm furry doses of comfort throughout the day.  So very soothing.  Where shall we find solace now?