August 23, 2020

White Dog came in quietly and leaned against my legs. I was sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark in the predawn hours noiselessly letting tears flow as we met the one week anniversary of Pearl's passing. She sat as still as I and instinctively knew just to "be" with me.

Some moments the horror and shock seem as though it just happened; other times it is like recalling an ancient era. I know the White Dog Army feels that same dislocation. The entire rhythm of our pack is disrupted and we have not yet figured out how to smoothly dance through the day as just seven.

The WDA wants to huddle together and stay as a group. When the walk teams go out for pre-bedtime exercise, all of the rest wait anxiously at the door as if worried they might not return. If Steve had the multiple arms of a Kali I suspect all would prefer to walk as one group.

We are needier right now. Steve and I are constantly asked for attention, pets, and just room to press against us. The Army is sleeping closer together more often and there are sniffs of the eye, kisses to the ears, resting of heads over backs, and of course, backend sniff tests.

The Coffee Club has not yet figured out what to do with the creamy part of the mug that Pearl once consumed. No one seems to want to claim extra but there is an unease that the cup is not slurped to its bottom.

No pup has taken over the tasks of "Watcher" and the chair remains vacant. There are no alerts that the brown truck is coming down the street. The mailman comes and goes without his song heralding the event; these days it is the slam of the mail slot that might awaken someone to know he has made his delivery.

Yesterday Steve was unloading groceries and in her excitement Opal hopped up on the chair to see him on the drive. She stood there for three seconds then visibly started and jumped back down. "Sweet Girl," I told her, "it is fine. You know Pearl often shared her chair."  But she was unconvinced and went to hide in the hallway.

We are in evolution right now. We cry and grieve but are finding ways to seek solace in each other. Gingerly without much confidence we are moving forward in a new stumbling dance. Pearl is not the first WDA member to leave us but each loss is different and comes with different challenges. All have taken time and love to redirect the pain.

This evening as I passed the office, I looked in to see Tizenegy and White Dog at the bed Pearl had claimed when CA Stormer left us. Each already have beds that they love but it felt like the little sofa might become a place to gather, hangout...maybe remember.