Three years ago today, we lost our Chocolate Lab, Coco, after a brief illness. I still miss him deeply, every single day. After this long, I thought I would have been mended, but I still can’t look at his scrapbook without melting into a puddle of tears, without that ache in my heart that only surfaces when I think too much or too long about him. I have his picture on my fridge as if he is still around, under my feet or snoozing on the couch. There are other constant reminders of him…the hardwood floors that bear scratches from his nails, his collar that I keep in my top drawer, even my cookbooks that he shredded one day when he was a puppy.
The Man and I have for years had a (nearly) nightly ritual of eating ice cream before bed. Back when Coco was still around, we would clink our spoons on the bowl when we were finished eating, as a signal to Coco that it was his turn to lick the bowl. Even now, I find myself clinking, and then realizing. Perhaps that is the hardest part–the forgetting and then the remembering.
I miss you something awful Coco. I’m afraid I always will.