I opened a package of string cheese last night to cut up into my chili. It’s the first time in a week that I have burst into tears.
Every time I would open the refrigerator and pull out the cheese drawer, Cohen would run over, anxiously wishing me to drop a piece on the floor. He would get SO excited. He could be sound asleep across the room, downstairs even, and if the cheese drawer opened, he came running.
I don’t know where he learned about the beauty of cheese, maybe he was born in Wisconsin or he learned it from a house guest, but he didn’t eat it at our house with us. Baby carrots, sure, but not string cheese.
On the last night with Cohen, I gave him a string cheese and he enthusiastically ate the whole thing. I hadn’t eaten a string cheese since.
It’s weird, the times that it hits me.
Yesterday we had freezing rain in Chicago. All day I was thinking about how Cohen would have been scared of the noise, but still excited for walks. We all would have grudgingly gone for walks at 7, noon and 6ish, walking fast and ducking our heads in our hoods.
I probably would have complained about the cold and rainy weather and said, “Cohen, I wish you could walk yourself.”
Last night when we got home from running errands, J said, “I really miss our dog, but I have to say, it is nice not to have to walk him on a day like today.”
I get that. I’ve whispered it to myself a few times in the past couple of weeks, but I always have to follow it up with, “…but, I’d rather have my dog back.” And I would. More than anything.
I miss his quirks. I miss his tenaciousness. I miss laying in his bed, petting him while he slept. I miss how excited he used to get when I came into the house – even if I had been away for 2 minutes tossing out the trash, Cohen acted like it had been a full day. He used to run from me to J back to me back to J for as long as we’d humor him when we walked in together. J would stand at one end of the room, I would stand at the other…
Cohen was the most loyal of dogs. I miss him every day. People ask if i’m ok and I am. I really am. But being ok and being ok with what happened are 2 very different things.
Cohen, I hope you’re running and playing and eating all of the string cheese in the world right now.
I miss you puppo.