In Loving Memory to You, Canuck, I Miss You So.
Today I did my morning workout, hoping to return to this daily routine again after a while. It´s been my first workout since we lost Canuck and I subconsciously feared the day I will return to this, once favorite routine. My subconsciousness was right that it will be hard.
I pulled out the mat, on which I´ve sweated for months without a single day off, Canuck laying by my side, sometimes "helping" me out by standing above my sweating body as I did push ups, sometimes poking me with his paw and sometimes just laying beside the mat, curled up, satisfied with just being near. As soon I was done with whatever excercises were done on the mat, he would open his eyes, take a good long yawn, stretch out and lay on the mat.
I used the mat also on his very last journey, to give him comfort in the car, during the mad night drive to the vet emergency in desperate try to save his life, while his heart was failing him.
I worked out hard today on that mat and listened to some of my favorite motivational songs, while sweatting my butt off. It was a good workout.
Somewhere in the middle of it, tears started to roll down my face and acompanied the sweat. I felt Canuck´s presence so strong that I found myself turning around to the carpet under the coffee table to check if I won´t see my boy curled up, his nose dove in his foxy tail, checking up on me with one eye open. He wasn´t there, but I could somehow see him clearly and remembered every little detail about him and I could feel the touch of his soft paw on my hand.
The mind is a mischievous place, let me tell you. It can make the soul dance, or shake with fear, or laugh or cry. Memories of all the tiny little details are stored in there somewhere, in it´s farthest corner, and then pop out once you lay your eyes on something, or do something that make the memory connection.
As I said, it was a good work out. It was probably one of my best so far. Although it brought emotional pain, which I was so long expecting and fearing (and avoiding).
And I will work out again tomorrow, and the day after. I will not fear my mischievous mind anymore and will store all the good memories. The daily morning workout will remain something that was and always will be "just ours". Moments that will help me reflect on how much I not only loved this little dog, but will remind me of how much I love all of my dogs, my life with them and why do I choose to sweat every day.
There are other things I feared and avoided, for the same reason, but I believe I am ready to face them now.
Acompanied with the spirit of my beloved dog, and the knowing that my aching heart and soul are now ready for the mischief of my mind, I am one step closer to moving on.