Monkey has a brain tumor, we don't have much time left together.
I find myself staring at you. Each part as if it were separate, its own individuality. Then I step back and stare again at your whole. Move closer in and there is the back of your foot, I feel sad about seeing the callus. Like maybe somehow I could have prevented it. But that is just a small part of the whole. The whole is that I have given you and will continue to give you a pretty great life and the best life that I can give you. You have been indulged, loved, laughed at, considered, teased, and tolerated. I move back in to breathe your feet. Your personal 'fresh baked dog' smell. The way your nose still smells like puppy when you have been sitting in the sun. I can't keep that. Smells don't come back in memories. I have to smell it over and over right now but not so often that I lose it. Just enough to feel you. Then there is the heart shaped patch of fur missing on your chest. How even? Couldn't have been planned. Just your heart sitting out there to see every time you roll around on your back. How do I ever honor your sense of humor? I can't explain that you were actually funny once. That it was pretty obvious you were laughing at us all just a bit. You still sometimes get that glint in your eye just before your mouth droops open slightly and your bunch up your meaty butt and spring into a lap. The lap can expect it all it wants but you find a way to catch that one surprise second. But then the cancer takes your laughter away and you find yourself unsure of why you are even there. I have to stop staring at you but then again, I need every second. Your ears bounce with all your steps. You have a truly 'jaunty' gait. I wish I could say carefree but I know you aren't. You never have been. I hate that I couldn't fix that, couldn't fix you. Couldn't calm your fears. I want to hold you so close, kiss you a million times a day but it only makes you more uncomfortable. So I back away and just watch you sleep. Try so hard to capture forever your tiger stripes because a picture won't be enough. Try to smile at the many crazy 'Go Monkey, Go Monkey, Go, Go, Go' runs around the yard. Try to remember that even though you made me crazy, it was still said with a sense of pride that you could jump a 6 ft. fence. Try not to cry every time you come close to me even though I'm sick with the pain of losing you. Try to hold on to the hope that I will get to be with you again someday because that is the only way I can get through this. I love you my Monkey. I love every part, I always have, and I'm terrified that you don't know it.
