Loss chases me around and leaves me bereft in the most unexpected places. I cried leaving the house because I no longer have to shut the gate. The little Bowerbird suggested getting a bone for Sammy at the supermarket, and she had to be reminded that he was gone. There are food scraps left on the floor that he would have enthusiastically licked up. There are his doggy things that we are yet to figure out what to do with. There are the spaces he loved to lie. There is his dinner time. There is the telling others that he is gone. There are the quiet moments before sleep when memories come bounding in. They are beautiful memories, but they leave an ache.
I didn't expect to feel quite so bad after the death of Sammy. He was old and it was time. But grief cannot be rationalised away, it demands attention, following me around like that beautiful big old black dog.