Oliver

Today, February 6th, 2007 is my first morning without my dear little Ollie. He passed away just 25 hours ago. Yesterday morning came early, and with a jolt, first at 2:45 a.m. and then again at 5. Five am in the winter is a sinister hour, dark with a biting chill and virtually lifeless. I couldn’t help but reflect on this thought as I drove to the pet emergency clinic in the predawn hours of yesterday.

I slept late this morning, well, late for me, up at 7:10 even though I went to bed early last night. My body must have needed it because yesterday was an incredibly draining day.

So today I woke up, I wouldn’t say rested and refreshed, but less swollen-faced and in less of a mental fog than yesterday. It is funny how the brain takes over and dictates how you will process your grief. Yesterday was a roller coaster of a day with many dips and turns emotionally. Physically I felt like I had just been beaten up by a large gang of thugs while running a marathon. I am not sure what today will bring.

I do know there is a hole in my world and in my heart though. For the past twelve years I have shared my life with a wonderful creature called Ollie, part extreme sport junkie, part gentleman, a 65 pound dog that knew how to curl up as small as a cat in order to fit into a comfy space on the couch no matter how tiny and improbable.

Now he is gone forever. I am trying to wrap my brain around that fact. No more velvety, delicate kisses, or gleeful squeaky greetings. I have seen his last dance of joy, a kind of rocking horse hop while spinning in a circle that always ended with a dramatic bow. I’ll never again see the big smile he would get as we approached any body of water, or his amazing leaps and twists midair when catching bubbles or a Frisbee. These were moments of pure joy for both of us. Now they will have to suffice as memories.

I feel so privileged to have had the time we did have together. Twelve years is a decent chunk of time, I now have habits to break and free hours that were previously dedicated to Ollie to reassign. I know at least for the time being many of these hours will be spent basking in the memory of the gorgeous, fawn colored dog with an unbelievably soft coat and a heart of gold. Ollie lives on and is still playing and dancing and cuddling in my mind. I will never forget him.

Ollie Wollie. Ollie is Little. Ollie is a Wollie. Don’t be so little. Mama’s little Ollie. Oliverrrrrr. Go Ollie go! Beat Ollie beat! I’m going to get you! Force-kiss Ollie. Ollie is a worm. Crazy Ollie. Little. 20th century Ollie, Mama’s love. Soft Kiss Ollie. Ollie is romantic. I love Ollie.
Goodbye Ollie…