I lost my Coco three years ago this coming June 10th.  It was, in all honesty, the most difficult thing I have had to deal with.  I think of him every day, miss him every day.  My heart still feels the weight of his absense.  In my desperation to fill the hole he left, we got Sonny.  Sonny was difficult.  Sonny was dominant.  Sonny was kinda funny…in a dominant, difficult sort of way.  Two years later, Sonny did what we considered to be a red flag, and bit my daughter, and that was it.  We decided to give Sonny back to his breeder(where, incidentally, he is happy as a clam).  It was a tough pill for me to swallow.  I had failed.  I gave up.  I couldn’t handle him.  But, then, he did bite her.

The house feels different even now, 10 months after Sonny left.  And I still miss Coco’s big tail thumping on the wall when we get home.  I miss his big, furry body always under my feet.  I miss his tricks (and they were good tricks, too).  I miss the humor, the playfulness, the warmth that came out of Coco.  I just miss that dog. 

Strangely, I miss Sonny, too.  Not in the same, painful, heartbroken kind of way, but in a way that I can’t explain.  Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment; maybe it is jealousy.  Maybe it is my Type A personality, finally admitting failure.  I know Sonny is happier now, WAY happier.  There must be some success in that.       

But still, something is missing in this home of mine, and it has four legs and a lot of fur.