Stories

The evening of 24th January, 2003, was spent in our living room. My aunt, uncle and cousin had come over. My brother and I standing near the door, the rest were hugging and crying. Stories were exchanged - "Remember the time...", "Oh! How Rusty used to..." and the occasional "The last few days, Rusty..."

I'd never seen my mom that way and it hurt me. All this for Rusty. JUST a dog? I don't think so.

Mom told us that in the afternoon that day that Rusty walked out to the garden by himself and sat on the grass in the sun and just looked up and stayed like that for about 10 minutes, when he had not been able to even walk from one room to another on his own that whole week. Also, that was the first and the only day that he peed like dog, hind limbs in the air. :')

Rusty had become MUCH more that just the family dog not only for my family but also my cousins and with his death, there was a part of us which died with him.

That evening ended with "It'll be okay. He's in a better place". Wish I knew what that place was. I'd like to go there someday...maybe I can see him again.

I miss him.