Golden

I first noticed her one evening as I walked into O’Tooles. I probably visited O’Tooles’ three or four times a week, so I was a regular and therefore knew she wasn’t. She was sitting on the bus bench out front, next to the curb. I just glanced at her and didn't even realize she'd made an impression on me until I was sitting inside, massaging my first brew for the evening. Then I caught myself remembering that blond hair. "Golden wheat" would be how I’d describe it. I was wondering how that golden wheat would feel if I ran my fingers through it. Beautiful hair.

For some reason, thinking about her sitting out there all alone made me feel guilty. I was unaccountably worried about her for no reason. Go figure. So before I even finished with that first brew, I found myself on my feet, headed for the door.

She was still there. I gulped a couple of times, suddenly realizing that she might interpret the approach of a stranger as antagonistic. Don't most of them react that way? But I swallowed hard, buttressed my ego, and made the approach.

She looked up at me as I came around the bench, smiled, and her eyes said it all. It was like we had known each other forever. We seemed to speak volumes to each other without even opening our mouths. I sat down next to her, and somehow knew we had a future. We spent a while on the bench getting to know each other and it became clear she was everything you'd expect in a "free spirit." And that hair. So golden. I just kept wanting to reach out and touch it.

I sat there thinking someone would come along and claim her or order me away from her, or she’d get up and board the next bus, but for about an hour, all the buses in the world could have passed by and we wouldn’t have noticed. We existed on our own little island.

I don’t know if that sort of thing has ever happened to you. It’s not a ‘maybe’ or a ‘sort of.’ It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience and you’ve either had it or you haven’t. And if you have, man, it’s a knock down show stopper.

I finally decided to take the plunge and asked her to come home with me. What joy I experienced when she agreed.

I can't really explain to you what it was like to run my fingers through her hair. It put me in a place of peace, of calm. My troubles all seemed to disappear. And she loved it whenever I touched her. We were destined to meet, to love and we made each other complete. I have to truthfully state that I have never loved anyone or anything as much as I loved her and have never felt as loved, either. There was no denying that it was total commitment on both our parts.

We’d know what each other was thinking. We’d go for the couch at the same time, for the kitchen, even for the bed. We’d go out for long walks together and spent time traveling. We laughed at funny movies and grew quiet at tear-jerkers. We sought each other’s comfort and gave of ourselves to each other freely.

We spent 14 years together, sharing the good times and the bad. We laughed together and cried together. When I hurt, she hurt and when she hurt, I hurt. We were almost constant companions and friends of the closet kind.

I buried her yesterday. I’ve known grief before and I know this terrible ache will go away with time, to resolve itself into a smaller but gentler pain. But this tears still come for now. God, I will miss her. I know I'll never see or touch or run my fingers through the same beautiful golden wheat ever again. I will miss her bark and her head in my lap and the way she would reach out with her paw to let me know it was time to go out or time to go to bed or time for me to feed her. She was beautiful, and I will miss her.