A whiff
I was just telling my sister this...
Last night, I was straightening up the house a little. Putting clothes away, throwing away junk mail, putting books back in the shelf. Graham was either on the computer or practicing his guitar or watching TV, and Crianza and Athena were with him. And at some point I decided to check again for Relampago's baby collar.
I used to wear it on my wrist--with the two silver bracelets that I never take off--whenever we were separated for a period of time, and right after he died, I couldn't find it. It was really upsetting when I looked for it, a month ago. I got nearly hysterical that I couldn't find it. It felt like losing him again, but I guess it was just a manifestation of his loss. I tried again yesterday.
The first place I looked was the drawer where all the dog stuff is in the kitchen. The monthly heartworm medicine is there, as well as any rawhide bones that aren't in active rotation. A lot of the older collars are there, including the one he used to wear during the holidays with the bells and the rastafarian one that he wore most of the time when we were in Berkeley. Nail clippers. His baby collar wasn't there.
I next turned to my jewelry box. That's actually the most likely place that it would be. There's not much of actual value in there, but most of the stuff is valuable to me. Small things that I've felt were important over the years for various reasons. But there's also a lot of costume jewelry in there too.
When I opened the box, I was almost reduced to tears. Right after Relampago died, I put all of the tags he's ever had, the bag of fur that I cut off of him the day he died, and his collar in there. As soon as I opened the box, the whole room immediately smelled like Relampago. It wasn't a bad smell. But it was undeniably HIS smell. It was as if he were just suddenly there with me again in the room, and I was just flooded with the almost tangible memory of him.
It's amazing how much smells can bring. I knew all of that stuff was in the box, and I was OK with it. I just wasn't really prepared to be flooded by such a profound sense of him.
Liv thinks that she may have the collar. I remember giving it to her when Chicken was a baby, but Chicken had a much bigger neck than baby pulis do and she needed to get her own collar.
Relampago's 16th birthday would have been Monday.
Last night, I was straightening up the house a little. Putting clothes away, throwing away junk mail, putting books back in the shelf. Graham was either on the computer or practicing his guitar or watching TV, and Crianza and Athena were with him. And at some point I decided to check again for Relampago's baby collar.
I used to wear it on my wrist--with the two silver bracelets that I never take off--whenever we were separated for a period of time, and right after he died, I couldn't find it. It was really upsetting when I looked for it, a month ago. I got nearly hysterical that I couldn't find it. It felt like losing him again, but I guess it was just a manifestation of his loss. I tried again yesterday.
The first place I looked was the drawer where all the dog stuff is in the kitchen. The monthly heartworm medicine is there, as well as any rawhide bones that aren't in active rotation. A lot of the older collars are there, including the one he used to wear during the holidays with the bells and the rastafarian one that he wore most of the time when we were in Berkeley. Nail clippers. His baby collar wasn't there.
I next turned to my jewelry box. That's actually the most likely place that it would be. There's not much of actual value in there, but most of the stuff is valuable to me. Small things that I've felt were important over the years for various reasons. But there's also a lot of costume jewelry in there too.
When I opened the box, I was almost reduced to tears. Right after Relampago died, I put all of the tags he's ever had, the bag of fur that I cut off of him the day he died, and his collar in there. As soon as I opened the box, the whole room immediately smelled like Relampago. It wasn't a bad smell. But it was undeniably HIS smell. It was as if he were just suddenly there with me again in the room, and I was just flooded with the almost tangible memory of him.
It's amazing how much smells can bring. I knew all of that stuff was in the box, and I was OK with it. I just wasn't really prepared to be flooded by such a profound sense of him.
Liv thinks that she may have the collar. I remember giving it to her when Chicken was a baby, but Chicken had a much bigger neck than baby pulis do and she needed to get her own collar.
Relampago's 16th birthday would have been Monday.