Kuma
Originally published at K.T. Hanna. You can comment here or there.
Several years ago in June, I headed out with my best friend Amanda on a six hour drive to Texahoma to pick out a corgi from a litter.
We got there, and the one I’d seen the pictures was a little devil. Off to the side this rolly polly little boy with tri markings sat there watching, and laughing. He had this blissful little expression, these kind eyes, and he didn’t bark at everything. The biggest of the bunch, his nose was heart-shaped and he stole my mine.
When we got him home Kira adopted him, like he was her own. Every day, she’d lick him, play with him, care for him. But she was always able to get up and move away when she wanted to. Kuma wasn’t so lucky. He loved her, doted on her, couldn’t do anything without her.
He never changed either. A little timid, you couldn’t raise your voice or he’d have trouble with his bladder. He was gentle and kind, loving and eager. And when you spoke to him he cocked his head to the side, trying desperately to understand you.
Kuma could sit, stay, and come here. He never understood fetch, he’d just chase Kira instead of the item. But he well knew the words, food, water, and chewie. The pure joy on his face at getting a rawhide chew was beautiful.
When Kami arrived, he avoided her for the most part - we think he didn’t understand her and was a bit scared. But he never growled, all he did was run away. In the last few months they started to understand each other, and he was never happier than when she fed him or gave him chewies.
Kuma was part heart, part joy, part child that needed protecting, and the rest of him was all stomach. He loved to eat. A lot. He was such a beautiful soul.
On January 1st 2015, we lost our baby boy. I know to some it may seem like he was just a pet, but he was so much more than that. He was our furbaby child, he was a huge part of our family, and the pain at his passing is ridiculously real and tangible.
We love you Kuma, we always will. We miss you Kuma-bear.
Kuma