We've been blessed with a Shih Tzu named Oscar for about two years now. I was bringing him in from his walk early this morning, had gotten us into the studio and was leaning over to unhook the leash from his harness. My ear was near the door into the living room and I distinctly heard Oscar's little fuzzy donut toy squeak three times rapidly. I assumed Mom or Dad was up, had heard us at the door and was encouraging Oscar to come in.
I opened the door quickly since Oscar was jumping to play with the toy as soon as he heard it. We saw the toy lying where it had been when we left out: in front of the piano, next to his bed, about four feet from the door. The room was still and dark, with no one standing anywhere. Oscar danced in, looking for Mom or Dad, stared at the toy without touching it and ran to the hall. He was disappointed to find their door shut and no lights on.
He stepped back into the living room, eyeing the toy and then me, then the toy, warily. He's smart enough to know that the thing couldn't squeak itself! I told him it was okay. Maybe Kissie Bear was keeping it company for him while he went on his walk. Kissie is my dear little Maltese who died back in June. The toy had originally been hers, but she had graciously surrendered it to him on his first day with us and it has remained his favorite.
I think, maybe, Kissie was letting us know she's still thinking about us. Sweet baby. I think of her every day and probably always will. She taught me a lot of precious things I never want to forget.
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