March 3rd was the six month anniversary of Crockett's death. I spent a little time at his gravesite. I wasn't as torn up this weekend as I had been last weekend. I still miss him terribly. I remember running my hands through his fur and how that felt. I remember him dancing on his hind legs when he caught a scent in the air. I remember his bounding across the backyard like a high-stepping stallion. I remember his smile. I remember the way he had to move his upper 'lip' when he chewed food so he wouldn't bite down on his lip. I remember how he'd eat raw sweet potato and raw carrots and raw red cabbage. I remember how he would press his body up to mine as we went to sleep.
Maybe I'm beginning to accept his death and the many changes it has brought to my life. I will always love him and always miss him.
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