Annie stayed


Sadness. Deeply grieving. It was Annie. Annie, who’s been through everything with me, calm, loving, never complaining, always in the background as if to say, “I’m here when you need me, but I’ll just let you get through until you do.” Annie, who let me use her as a pillow, draped my legs over her to take a nap. She stepped aside when Boone walked in and just let him be the number one dog, knowing that she would only be there to wait for when I needed her. Annie making me cry in her fur and holding her and just sitting patiently while I did. Annie, who was scared of everyone but Tom, Kaity and me, but knew full well that we would protect her and never let anyone hurt her again.

Annie appeared about ten years ago. We lived on a farm in Richmond, Ky. I went outside to see Kaity petting this furry red pup, a real redhead, who had come up the driveway. She sat with Kaity, but wouldn’t let me near her. She was scared, scared to death.

“Can I keep your mom?”

“You have to ask your father and you know how it will work.” He wasn’t a dog. It never was. That would never be.

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