Party's Over

***Bernie on Ice; December 31, 2004***

Things will never be the same

Still I'm awfully glad I came --Anthony Kedis/Red Hot Chili Peppers

I spent most of my day at my parents' house, cleaning off the pond then skating on it for a while. It's a beautiful day, sunny and 20 degrees or so. That qualifies as beautiful for Minnesota in January.

As I mentioned, Bernie used to come over here with me all the time. She'd have a blast--swimming, running, hunting, observing, sniffing, following me, barking for me, walking the lake trail with me. In the winter she'd frolic in the snow here, head onto the ice for a skate with me, watch me blow snow or do whatever. If I was outside, she'd constantly follow me. I loved it.

When I'd sit in the hot tub outside, she'd roam around, checking in from time to time. She'd put her front paws on the step and peer over into the hot tub, tongue hanging out. She'd lick the water off the ledge, often my face too. She'd then head off into the yard and woods, only to return a couple minutes later to repeat. 

She'd also join me on the ice, I using her as a decoy as I'd skate around, stickhandling around her, sometimes sliding the puck under her. She'd lay on the ice and watch, just watch, for as long as I wanted to stay out there. This was a dog that wanted but one thing, and that was to be with me.

One of the three television shows I watch is Cold Case. The show is based present but flashes back to the time the crime was committed. At the end of each show, there is a montage of flashbacks that shows the deceased victim during happier times--perhaps with a loved one, engaging in a fun activity, etc. I saw Bernie in a similar light today, head out the car window, her laying on the ice, her popping over the side of the hot tub. I talked to her, as though it was business as usual and she was still here.

I'm not lonely or sad. I just miss her.