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]