Swipe. Swipe. Nothing good. My heads pending. Shouldn't have drank that much. Heidi. Swipe back. Why is she on Facebook? "You'll be missed." I sit up, panic sweeping through. I drop my phone quickly getting up. I loose my balance, everything swirling around me. I hold onto the walls as I stumble to the back door. It can't be true. We still had a lot things to do. Memories to make. Hugs to be shared.
As I finally make it down the stairs I slam the backdoor open. "Heidi," I scream tears streaming down my face. She's old. It takes her long to get up. I scream her name again as I stumble towards her dog house. A black figure runs up to me. Alaska. I push her aside. "Hedi!" I cry.
Upon reaching her house I stick my head inside but see nothing. I look into Alaska's house but nothing. I'm fully crying now, shaking as I flip the lights on for the yard. There's a lump underneath a blanket. I fall down to my knees slowly pulling the blanket off. Her eyes are closed. She's still. No movement. No wagging off her tail. "My Heidi," I sob touching her cold face. Alaska pushes past me. She smells her before lying down next to her. She lays her head on Heidi's stomach. I start sobbing uncontrollably, cradling her head. "Heidi....my beautiful Heidi."
I don't know how long I've been there. My eyes have dried up. It's just dry heaving. Alaska hasn't left her side. I miss her forehead one last time. I pull Alaska away, pulling the blanket back on.
We buried her the next day.
Alaska cried for days.
I couldn't talk about her without bursting into tears.
They used to tell us that her kind were vicious. To keep her on a tight leash. To muzzle her.
But they didn't know her.
She was a sweetheart.
Afraid of water.
Protecting the house.
Licking off the tears.
The joy she brought us.
Curling up on our laps even though she weighed a lot.
Hugging anyone willing to accept her hugs.
I love her very much.
I saw a Rottweiler a few weeks ago.
I burst into tears when it jumped on me.
I miss her...