I wish I could have told her how much I loved her. I lived with her for sixteen years. She was my everything. I was happiest when I lay next to her. Her bedroom was my safe place. The sheets were always clean and smelt of sunshine, her body was scented with frankincense and lavender, her skin was so soft, I appreciated her round curves and snuggled into her, my eyes would grow heavy as I lay silent and still. I never wanted to leave her side. She was often sad and lonely, I worried she may break if I was not there to comfort her.
When the morning sun filtered through the shimmering curtains, she would awaken, I felt her deep long sigh just before she stretched and threw an arm over me, I pretended I was asleep. I felt her move and watched her through almost closed eyelids as she rose slowly from the bed, reached out and raised the blind. I stayed quite still. I heard the heavy rain, it bounced off the tin roof and cascaded over the gutters making a splashing, watery noise. I crept further down into the doona that covered me, I did not want to get up.
In time she returned to the bed with her ginger tea, it was her morning ritual. The aroma was spicy and strong and when I breathed it in, it overpowered me. “How can she swallow something that smells so bad?” I wondered. She reached over to me and stroked my body, my spine rose to her touch, it was soothing and comforting. I needed her. I heard her sigh and sensed her sorrow; I moved closer and put my head on her beautiful belly. I would not ask anything of her.
This was how our days ended and began for years, we ate our breakfast together in silence, I watched her every move. Sometimes she shared her toast, I always felt loved when she handed her toast to me. The house embraced us quietly as our days unfolded. We loved the garden, there were many rooms in my garden, my favourite was the one where the banksia shaded the path on one side and a large Rhododendron dripped droplets of water on me after it rained, it tickled, and I would shiver in delight. The fragrance of wood, flowers, lemon trees and soil were particularly strong there. She liked following me through this secret, hidden space until the branches gave way to the tall ferns.
I suppose my happiest memories were when I had her to myself. We would head off on an adventure with a tiny caravan hitched to our car. I trusted her completely, she found amazing camp sites, often with views of water, I never went in as I hated swimming. We both loved walking on beaches though, she knew these were my happy places, I smiled broadly as we both ran around wildly chasing one another. I slept in my own bed as her bed was tiny, I missed her, but she always asked me to join her in the mornings. Her mood grew lighter as the weeks went by, she slowed down, moved gracefully, and sighed with contentment. She was so good to be around. She was beautiful to me.
As our relationship grew, I could feel how devoted she was to me. She would look into my eyes and tell me how much she loved me and that she would be sad if I left her. I felt special, she had chosen me, she cared for me, she was my beloved. When we went walking through the forest, she spoke to me about what she saw, she was an Earth Mother, she knew what the trees were saying, and she always spoke to the birds. We walked in the mist when it was cold, our coats kept us warm, she wore her grey puffer jacket with a purple scarf and gloves, I had a drizabone lined in purple, so we matched you see. I think we were meant for each other. She rarely got cross with me, whenever she did, she apologised quickly, then hugged me close and kissed my face.
When we celebrated our fourteenth year together another person came to live with us sometimes. They were great friends and laughed together. Were we to be a threesome? I liked him and trusted him. Days and months passed, and I started to feel unwell, my back ached and my sight was getting worse every day. The three of us still went on adventures together, it was new and different, she thought of all my special needs, and he spoiled me.
I loved her so much and sensed she was content at last, not as lost, or sad. I was happy. He was kind and patient with me, he knew how important she was to me. I knew he would look after her and I could let go now. My aging meant some things changed and I needed more care. She tended to me fondly, she kept me warm and comfortable. One day she looked into my cloudy eyes and asked me to tell her when I was ready to leave my body. She told me I had to be clear. “No hints,” she said, “Say it loudly.” So, when, one day I could no longer walk I knew it was my time. The three of us shared our last breakfast of toast and vegemite in his garden, it was chilly but sunny, the birds were singing,
“She would like that,” I thought. “It’s my time,” I whispered in her ear.
We all went back to her house and spent some time in my garden.
She said, “I love you so much, I will never forget you.”
I knew her heart was heavy, but I also knew I would be in her heart forever. As I slipped away, I whimpered in her ear. I hope she heard me when I said, “You were the love of my life.”
He held my body close before lowering it into the grave. I was dressed in my red tartan coat and wrapped in my green Welsh blanket.
I think she knows I am still around; I have played some good tricks on her. Even in my spirit body I feel her, she has a huge heart, sometimes I nestle into it but mostly I like to run around on my four legs in that glorious garden and watch her as she tends my grave.