So, the other day, I cut my husband's hair as I've mentioned in the past that I do. As I was cleaning the sheers afterwards, a tuft of blondish-red hair fell out of them.
My eyes filled with tears I tried to push back. Again, here was another reminder of the life we lived with this amazing dog.
I picked up the one-inch curl and held it for a moment. It was the first time since his death that I had touched his fur. It was so soft and pretty; left over from the last time I had cut Bayley's fur.
Not ready to let it go, I laid it in the container we keep the hair cut supplies. I probably should dig it out and put it somewhere safe, but for the time being, this was the best I could think of to do.
The reminders are everywhere-constantly reminding us of the joy of raising Bayley from his puppy-hood and the life we experienced because he was here always causing us some sort of mischief.
The loss is still profound; yet we know we are all doing a little better than we were that day in August when he died. One step at a time we move forward better for having shared our lives with a little puppy that wrapped himself around our hearts.
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Random thoughts from the mud puddle.
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