by Claire Petrie
It is now 365 days since you left me, and it is still no easier living without you. I still see your large intelligent eyes and your constant smile. I still look to see you under the deck table, humorously placing your toy in the umbrella hole to make a "point." I still see your goofy face framed by the lace table cloth in the dining room table. I love this time of year in spring, yet my whole being automatically went into mourning as soon as May came around. I have created an archive of your pictures, Mishka, and have hung two of my favorites in the bedroom. You are so beautiful. You had a great, generous, positive spirit that survived the callous mistreatment of your first owners, who dumped you in their yard and starved you of food and love. A spirit such as yours lives on, it is too noble and loving, and I know we'll finally be connected forever someday. I come to this web site nightly for consolation from all the bereaved people who have loved as I do. I must end this writing, for I am weeping. I love and miss you, my Mishka.