The Grim Reaper came and took away our friend. I thought to plead for his life, but it was his time and I’d only have to go through all of that again another day. Shiloh stood there, begging for me to play. But I was in pain. Deep, deep pain.
Crying felt good, but what would it do? Moping around and soiling my pillow with tears wouldn’t bring him back. I needed to be more like Mommy and keep busy. I changed my clothes and planted a few of those soybean pods I picked in Evergreen Harbor. While I was in the gardening mood, I trimmed the overgrowth on the bonsai tree. The previous owner must have loved plants because the yard was full of them.
My botanical escapades kept my mind occupied for an hour, but when I completed those tasks, I was sad again. Shiloh tried to get me to play and go for a walk again, but I told her no.
She barked at me with her little doggy attitude, like she was trying to set me straight, and I heard what she said. We’d been through this before, and I told her no then too. But when I finally agreed to take her out, I felt better. I knew she wasn’t being selfish and only wanted to help, and I appreciated her. But I also did not feel like playing or walking with her.
