A speck of dust. A blink of an eye. I pray to God I can reach heaven and see my Maui again, his bark and his tail wagging. Each sunset will be filled with thoughts of our walks, his eyes saying, ‘Love you lots, Mom; everything’s OK. I have an endless supply of tennis balls, peanut butter, and bananas.’
Love more while you have the time on earth. Thank you, Maui, for the endless dose of dopamine, your unconditional love, the instant serotonin boosts, and stress relief. Our family has been so much happier these past 10 years because of you. I keep looping your videos to relive precious moments, though it hurts so much. I miss you terribly.
I still talk to you—on our daily walks, around the house, from morning until bedtime, and outside for ball fetch. I hope you can hear me. I’m so sorry for all the travel days and weeks when we couldn’t take you along, and especially for this last one. If only I’d been home, I might have been able to stop your illness from getting worse. I’m thankful that your big bud, J, took care of you and tells me you had the best day before the saddest day of our lives, and that you knew you were on a car ride to go somewhere fun with J. The pain of not making it back in time for you to see me, though I know you heard my voice, will forever stay with me. I love you so much, my sweetest fur baby.
As I always said when I left you by the door, ‘Wait for Mommy, OK?’ Now I say, ‘Wait for Mommy in heaven, OK?