Walter, the boxer, and I miss our friend "Johnny Rotten" very much, and have not really been able to get through the depression of losing such a wonderful creature and friend.
Walter makes me sad as he looks for his friend in the yard, the car, the house, behind the chair where he used to hide, and he never finds him.
It's been horrible, the loss was not what I expected. That little dog brought life and energy to our house, and it is not easy for Walter or I to let go.
I know Walter has some idea that something bad happened: I showed Walter Johnson's body after he died, and Walter pushed him, trying to wake him up. Then we buried Johnson two days later in the yard.
It was if Walter knew that's what we were doing. We didn't want him to watch. But after we covered the lifeless pup, Walter came tearing out, barking at the burial mound.
Then yesterday, when it snowed, Walter went running outside to enjoy the floating flakes of ice, and suddenly stopped by the grave. He barked once and looked, as if he was telling Johnny, "come out there's snow."
While I grapple with the idea of getting another dog for Walter, I am too hopelessly missing our tiny dog. I want Johnson, I don't want another dog. But I have to get over it, and we have to move on.
Most of my animals lived to ripe old ages, so when they died, I knew I had a great life, the longest life possible, with them.
But Johnson was just a boy starting out and he was awfully cute and awful too. May God enjoy him.
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