She Picked Him

A ‘tink’ reverberated through the house as water began to fall. A gray light shone through the window illuminating a boy sitting on the floor. He sat alone in front of a fireplace, vacantly staring into the fire. A wicker basket of toys and a dog bed sat nearby. His lips trembled as he rubbed his chest, trying to remove the weight that grew there. Gasping for breath, he glanced at the waterfall that used to be a window; it was days like this that made him miss her the most.

His shoulders slumped as he looked at the purple collar that lay on the floor next to a decorative wooden box, a name elegantly engraved on the top. A tsunami of memories washed over him. The day Dad brought her home was one of the best days of his life. He walked through the door and she scampered directly to him. He dropped to his knees, arms wide, and hugged her tightly. She picked him. He remembered the way she would gallop through the puddles, stopping every few jumps to make sure he was right behind her. Her eyes sparkled and her tail a blur. He’d run after her and they’d roll in the mud together. He could still hear how Mom yelled when they got back, a trail of mud from the back door to the bathroom. She was so mad. The corner of his mouth lifted and his eyes softened as he stared at the collar. Every day after school he was greeted by her bouncing around, chirping, and ready to play. As the years passed, the bouncing got smaller and the play times grew shorter but they still spent every moment they could together. Snuggling more and more.

His chin lowered to his chest as he shook his head and slowly pet the box. His best friend was gone. He covered his face with his hands and rocked slowly back and forth trying to stifle his cries. He lifted his head, wiped his eyes and stood, releasing a sigh. Barely able to move, he picked up the items, walked to the mantel, and hugged the box with all his might. He kissed the box, swallowed hard, placed her next to a photo of them together; his hand lingered as his thumb moved back and forth. His head hung low as he sniffled and walked to leave the room, each step heavier than the last.

I miss you.

His mother stood slouching in the doorway waiting to embrace her son. Her expression softened and she tried to hold back tears as she wrapped her arms around him. She held her breath and looked at the mantel where her little girl rested. The pain bubbled up from inside her as she held her son.

“I miss her too, buddy.”

They sobbed together over their loss.