Almost a week now and one thing that strikes me is how much my habits at homes were conditioned by the dog.
How I’m always looking behind my back when I cook. Maya would always sit or lay on the floor waiting for crumbs to fall over the counter. I have to admit, in the last few years I gave her a fair share of vegetable and fruit offcuts.
Since one of her sleeping spot was leaning her back against the front door, I still cautiously open the door. Then, when I get in the house the first place I look is under the dining table where she’d most likely be in the last year since it was getting difficult for her to get up to greet us.
For some reason we still close our bedroom door when we sleep. Since she was an early bird we did not want to be waken up by a cold wet nose. That would work for 10-15 minutes but after that she would just start scratching the door until somebody went downstairs and put some food in her bowl.
We should have her ashes this week. The kids want to disperse some at the lake where we go for walks and had her bathe when it was getting hot. I will keep the rest and put it in the backyard where she spent a good part of her life.
OK, I will now stop talking about it and get on with my life.
Inside My Head 