I recently promised myself, or promised Jillie, that when struck with the
thought of her passing that I would remember how wonderful it was having
her, rather than being stuck in the tormenting circle of thought at her
loss.  It's a tough promise to keep.
 
Today cleaning out a kind of catch-all drawer in the kitchen I came
across the little plastic Cheerio keeper.  Given long ago by a friend
who adored Jillie and understood that she adored Cheerios.  Holding it
my hand, now stale cheerios still inside, I am immediately moved to
tears.  My little, little one - gone from me.
 
But I do try and keep my promise.  I remember her morning leaps from the
couch to the coffee table, determined to get the Cheerios that weren't
her's.  How she would smell my breath after I ate, and lick her little
chops with a back and forth tilting of the head as if she too had just
had a treat.  How after quickly eating a treat she would scurry over to
her sisters and help with their crumbs.  Always underfoot in the kitchen,
she often got the accidental "foot lift".
 
My little buddy, she would follow me from room to room.  Many times I
would carry her with me when I left the room, feeling that if not she
would think I was leaving her.  She was content to be near me, and though
she wouldn't snuggle close she was always sleeping in close proximity to
where I say.  And if I did sneak a treat, especially a crinkle paper
candy, she was suddenly right there, ready to sniff my breath and lick
her lips.
 
I miss her, but will try and accept her physical absense, and smile in
rememberance of all she was when here.  Cheerio my little buddy.
[Posted in FML issue 5124]