It's been a year since we said goodbye to you. A year today, and there's not a day gone by that I didn't think of you. And my heart still aches.
In my crazy, chaotic, dysfunctional world, you were always there for me. You were my one constant. You were the one thing I knew I could depend on. It hurt so much to say goodbye, but it hurt even more to watch you suffer.
I remember the day as if it were yesterday. I'd walked out to the mailbox, and you followed, just like you always do. Only this time, you didn't make it. You couldn't even make it halfway across the yard, you were so weak. Then, when I picked you up to help you up the stairs, you screamed and then you bit me. That's when I knew.
You had never bitten anyone in your life. Especially not me. And I'd done all sorts of things to you. I'd poked your eyes, and your ears. I'd doctored cuts. I'd pulled thorns out of your feet. I'd pulled a fish hook out of your ear. I'd even accidentally ripped an incision open trying put you into the car to take you back to the vet. You flinched. You whimpered. You even yelped. But you never bit.
I knew then that if you'd lost so much of yourself that you would bite me, you weren't my sweet Katie any more. I knew then that it was time to let you go.
Now, a year has passed, and my hurt is still raw. My wound is still as fresh as it was that day--the first day in my life I wept so hard I couldn't breathe.
The grass has nearly covered your resting place. Soon, no one will even remember where we laid you. But I will. I will always remember where you lie. I will always remember you. Your spirit will forever run with me.
Run well, my friend.