Nine Years.
I have not posted about losing my beloved corgi, Hardy. I have mentioned it, fully and completely planning on dedicating a post to him, but I have not. I could not. Every time my fingers began to type, the lump in my throat would come back and I would have to relive that day over in my head. Even as I type now, my fingers shake and feel as though they might cramp. Blogging is usually so cathartic for me, so therapeutic. There are so many times that the only way I can truly express my feelings and thoughts is through writing. I am hopeful that as I type these, I will gain some sort of relief or release. Because, as of this moment, the knots in my stomach and throat say otherwise. When I close my eyes some nights, I can still see his little lifeless body on our bedroom floor. After a day of coaxing him from under the porch and trying several suggested treatments, he passed in a place that he felt comfort, a place where he spent so many nights when he would get too hot in the bed wit...