a week has past...

...and I still,

wake-up wishing to see Hobie;

look into the laundry room each morning, where Hobie slept at night;

look over at Hobie's spot on the couch, where he slept and watched the girls and I play, talk or watch t.v.;

crack open the front door to get the mail or greet a solicitor, so Hobie wont run out, but instead intimidate by barking as a warning to any stranger;

think what a waste of my remaining [fatty] steak and ribs are, without Hobie to indulge;

stare off into space glancing out the window waiting for Hobie to come to the door wanting inside;

remember when Hobie danced with me on New Year's Eve...

...but I have Hobie's old blanket which I've saved unwashed and hold it close to my heart when I need that special hug from him.

I with hesitation allowed my self on Friday afternoon to belt the most needed laughter. The kids were playing in their kiddie pool, and as much as I felt no need to laugh during time of grieving, it is a necessity in our souls, therefore, making Hobie's memory a sign of healing and the ability to accept his loss. I am more acceptable to laughing rather than crying, especially when remembering Hobie and what memories are still alive with us today. Hobie you were such special part of our lives, and our home is incomplete without you. You were by our side years before Brian and I were parents, and quickly shared your love to Marissa and Sierra.

Writing has been the best thing for me, I have a journal and have been writing down thoughts, and memories - which has helped me tons. I also felt as if this feeling was abnormal, and was keeping my emotions to myself. I wrote about Hobie on San Francisco based momslikeme.com, and was thrilled to read similar feelings of grief. It was so nice to hear that I'm not crazy, and a dog is not only a pet, but a family member, a child in most ways. Hobie was our first child. I've learned that crying in front of the kids is OK - I think it worries them, but it helps them talk about Hobie, what I'm feeling and gives them the opportunity to express how they feel. Just because you don't verbally talk about the loss, does not mean you've coped. I've learned through my tears that Marissa and Sierra are both mad and sad about the death of Hobie. I will always have guilt, but in time will forgive myself.

I've realized that writing about Hobie has and will continue to help me grieve, and that the post I wrote the evening he died was what got me through that night and week. I was thrilled to remember all the times we had enjoyed with Hobie, making sure he was always included in our family lives. Many pictures, many memories is what will get me through each day - and looking at my blog does not always bring tears to my eyes, but brings me a smile to see his face happy knowing he was loved.

I read an article Friday evening where the author quoted Dr. Seuss in time of mourning: "that we not cry because it's over, but that we should smile because it happened." I am very thankful for having Hobie in our lives and what his life and death has meant to me.

I wish people would not make light of those who find comfort in their pets, and truly consider them family. He was our companion, who stuck by our side no matter what - that can't always be said by a [human] family or friend.