Small Fry Void

It is amazing how much of my daily routine took into consideration the needs of Tiny Dog (and New Old Dog, until recently). My activities first thing in the morning, and last thing at night, centered around them. The alarms set on my phone told me when it was time for pills for Tiny Dog. How and when I cooked, where I folded laundry, even whether I got up from my chair or stayed seated longer depended on whether I thought they would follow me or not -- I never wanted to disturb their rest. Even backing up my desk chair required a check for small dogs first lest I squash a paw or an ear. And then there was the omnipresent five pound weight of Tiny Dog in the pet sling whenever I did chores. She was a wee little constant companion.

Her absence is a tiny physical void in the house, and yet is a gigantic presence. Just like she herself was.

Rest easy, Tiny Dog. We love you.