5:45 a.m. will never be quite the same


5:45. that's what time my phone would wake me up on mornings during the week that i would open the store. it would give me enough time to talk myself out of bed, stumble down the stairs, feed KAMmie, get myself ready, wake hannah, get her ready and then head out the door to take hannah to school and daddy to work.

yesterday, i lost a very sweet friend. between the time i fed her thursday morning and the time sarah and i went out to feed her yesterday morning, KAMmie fell victim to a horrible, one-in-a-billion type accident and died. i intentionally steer clear from the phrase "passed away", because there was nothing peaceful about the accident. make no mistake, KAMmie's latter half of her life was taken from her through no fault of her own, through no fault of anyone, only through the fact that, on some days, life deals you a shitty-ass hand.

KAMmie was a charming, very smart puppy. she was great with hannah. she was great with anyone that would spare a second or two to pat her on the head. i thank KAM (katie, amy and meg) for presenting her to me as a birthday present almost six years ago. i thank donna for playing foster parent to her for a year and letting me have the last 14 months back with her. i thank sarah for ever and always enduring that i never taught her to not jump and loving her just the same. and i thank KAMmie for being the definition of man's best friend. i wasn't always fair to her as a dog owner. there were many days, including our last together, that the only time i would see her was at 5:45 or whenever i went out to feed her. yet, she certainly wasn't neglected. she had dogs in four or five neighboring fences that would keep her busy and entertained as they ran along their respective fences for hours on end. my retired neighbor seemed to think of her as his own as it was common for me to look out the back window and see them playing around. when i first moved into the townhouse, this made me jealous in a silly way. as time passed, it just made me happy for KAMmie. on days i needed her, though, she was there for me. happy to either walk or fetch or watch me cut grass and then sit on the porch with me. she could not be any better about sleeping inside once the weather got cold. for having no real training, there could not have been a more well-behaved dog.

today, i won't try to make any sense out of her not being here and available to our family. there is just no sense to be made. it's sad. and tragic. and doesn't make any sense. it throws us off our routine. it grounds us. reminds us of the fragility of life in general. i never had a two-way conversation with KAMmie and i won't go so far as to say we've lost a member of our family. but i cared for her deeply. and in her own way, she cared for me too. i will never forget her. and i will never set my alarm for 5:45 again.

today, i miss my dog. if i happen to run into her again in the next life, that would make me happy.