Its 52 degrees and overcast this morning. I remember 52 feeling warm last Spring, after the teens and twenties of the Winter. There seems to be no graceful enterance to Fall this year, no casual change from the warmth to the slight chill in the morning air. I don’t feel like I’m ready for Fall, yet. Oh well…not up to me.
Today is an all about me day. I have my chiropractic and massage appointments this morning at 9. That takes about an hour or so. At noon, I go in for my Tru-dog tattoo; Tru’s paw print with woods behind it.
I’m a little nervous about the tattoo since this is a new tattoo artist for me. I checked out her other work and talked with the artist before making the appointment, so I know she is really good at what she does, but this is change, something I have never felt I’ve done very gracefully. I’m sure it will be fine. I wouldn’t be going if I wasn’t.
I ordered the aftercare kit by H2Ocean on Amazon right after I made the appointment almost a month ago. Its been sitting on my desk as a reminder of the appointment, as if I really needed one. I miss Truman so much. The tattoo will sort of be like having a part of him with me always, though I know that I have that anyway. A tangible item, I guess. A visual one.
I feel like a nut job, sometimes, being so depressed about my dog, talking about it. I know there are so many people out there that look at the family dog as just a dog. Sure they love them as much as I love Truman, but its like they have this dividing line that makes it different. ‘This is a dog, period. Sure, grieve the loss but its still just a dog.’ I don’t get it. I guess that’s just not me.
Truman was my best friend, companion, confidant, a soul mate. He was so in tune with my emotions and thoughts. He knew when I was upset and needed comforting and would do so. He knew how to get me to laugh when I needed to. He knew when I really needed to cry and wasn’t letting myself, and knew how to come up to me for cuddles in such a way that would get the tears flowing. He was never just a dog.
But, here I am rambling on about my dog, once again. For some reason, I thought it wouldn’t be quite as painful as it is by now. I thought this little bit of time would have put a slight buffer on it. The tears streaming down my face right now tell me there has been no buffer developed, yet. Hopefully, I don’t sit in the tattoo chair and cry the entire time.