An old timer, Timber, and Phoebe always shared Mum's comfy chair together. Timber misses his buddy, too. Phoebe has been gone for 9 weeks and a day doesn't pass that she isn't missed.
It's hard to describe the feeling of loss. It's physical in the heart. A twisting pound. A trembling down the arms. It is with us first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. It often torments us for hours in the middle of the night. The silent tears. There is the knowing...that she is out there. The unknowing...where? It certainly doesn't help one's health. Especially Don's who has said "All I want to do is spend my last years with a dog." Who takes a dog from old people? Maybe another oldster who has lost some cells.
There are many eyes out there and it is so encouraging to get calls from people who are looking. I pray every day that God will bless us with Phoebe's return.
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