Harry, after the first snow had melted and dried, and the sun was spring-like above you, your back end swayed and your legs gave out on you again. You didn’t even try to get up. Instead, you flopped your long, silky body onto the ground and rolled. You nosed the still awakened grass, snuffed the tingling air, paying homage to our glorious world.You were happy.

But now, less than two weeks later, your happy, dog life has gotten sad. We have to let you go, in a day, a few days.

I remember that you loved to chase those really little dogs when you got the chance. You jumped for tennis balls. You welcomed cats. I remember how you’d push your cold, wet nose against mine. You did that with all of us, even the babies when they were babies, breathing our breath, confirming our lives.

I remember, too, that you left deep gouges in the front door with your long black claws.I remember how you chewed the blinds, ate the butter, tore apart loaves of bread.That was when you were left alone. You didn’t want to be left behind.You didn’t want to be forgotten. And isn’t that what we all want?

Harry, you won’t be forgotten. Even now, while you sleep on the bed behind me, while I am remembering you, my world is a little shinier, a little gentler, and so very sweet.

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