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A Lost Son - Khrystyne Robillard-Smith

A Lost Son

It’s actually been about a month since Mr B. passed, but I have found it so hard to write anything about him without tears. His death really upsets me deeply, a soul as sweet as his should certainly not be taken so soon. Unfair is not a strong enough word for it. The thing about B is that he was a true family dog. He lived to love us. Every day the kids would go off to school he’d run and get one of their favorite toys. He’d drag it into the livingroom and cuddle with it for awhile, because his heart truly ached when they weren’t around. If we went over to a neighbors house in the summer time he would sit in the window and howl the saddest, longing cries. He wanted nothing more than to be with us. He was my shadow, he was at my feet while I worked and every so often would poke his head in front of my computer to say hello. It was a daily reminder of what was really important.