I’ve been watching Arnie all weekend. He isn’t acting like himself at all. I’ve examined him, and he seems to be fine. But he’s just not right.
I’ve thought about bringing him to the doctor, but our roads are one giant skating rink of ice, slush, and snow.
I also think that all the examinations in the world won’t heal Arnie’s, broken heart.
And that’s what I think is wrong. I think Arnie’s heart is broken. I think, he misses his sister, his life-long companion.
I’ve washed doggy beds and blankets. I’ve vacuumed the carpet and used Fabreeze. I’ve done everything to erase Anneliese’s scent, but I know it is there and he still knows it.
And he grieves. In a very real and active way. And it just breaks my heart too.
How I wish I could talk to him, even if it was just for a short time, and explain to him what is happening. And let him know that it is okay and he has nothing to fear.
“I love you, Arnie. You’re going to be okay and I am here for you.”