Memories

My doggie left this world and me four months ago. He taught me so much, most importantly, what it feels like to be loved at the deepest visceral level.

Toshi came into my life as a puppy. As a first time dog owner, I didn’t even know how to take care of his most basic needs. But with trial and error mixed in with time, we figured some things out.

Our attachment flourished over his fourteen years. A natural as my psychiatric service animal, he nurtured me through my experiences of life’s ebbs and flows, and provided me a compelling reason to keep moving forward after my cancer, infertility, divorce and unsuccessful legal embryo custody battle.

We saved a lock of Toshi’s hair when he passed. It remained lost, until today. In a moment, I was back in the physically, emotionally and mentally devastating state I had suffered when he first left. My healing heart broke open again and my face flooded into a full box of Kleenex.

In time, the wave passed. And the sadness gradually gave way to gratitude for having known Toshi and his boundless love.

Then I took a moment to acknowledge and celebrate my relatively newfound ability to surf the difficult emotions, avoid being pulled into the abyss, and continue on with my evening, with joy.

Toshi’s hair now sits in a frame, on a pillow of soft cloth, next to one of the last photos we took of him. My heart sings at the sight every time I walk by. For him, and for me.