Our big guy, two and a half days late and three years later.

Photo copyright Aji, 2017; all rights reserved.

I'm horrible right now. I miss everything; I drop more balls than were in the air to start with.

I forget everything under the sun.

And on Friday, I forgot that it was the third anniversary of the day Major left us.

It wasn't that I forgot completely; he's been on my mind again lately. But somehow, I think my exhausted brain pushed February into March. It was complicated by everything that was going on at the appointed time on Friday: Wings canceling a last-minute appointment elsewhere; waiting for the vendor to arrive with the doors and getting them unloaded safely. My mind is always on twenty things at once, and with my current pain levels, I'm doing nothing well, or even right.

So tonight, I gave him a little tobacco and sweetgrass; tomorrow, i'll take him some cedar and burn it for him. He was a big man, one who exceeded all expectations and far outlasted anything anyone every thought he would do, and he was so proud of his coat that he'd never sit still long enough for me to fasten it, hence the look of the photo. But he was a sweet boy, and a loving one, and tonight I am terribly guilty. But he is no longer in pain, and he is free of the cancer that wracked his body at the end.

Please forgive me, Major; I'm sorry that I'm so forgetful. We miss you, and we love you, Big Guy.


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