Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Kahlua and Peppermints
I wasn't worthy of his presence. He was a king among kings. A servant, and king.
On that Thursday afternoon, I cleaned the house a bit - packed up his bedding, his bowls, his left over food and vitamins, his blankets and toys still laying around the house. I moved from room to room and removed all remembrances of my best buddy. On my sink were dozens of peppermints, the peppermints I would collect at various restaurants around town - eating out all those evenings and coming home with a pocket full of peppermints that I grabbed on the way out the door - eating a couple and saving a few for my best friend waiting for me at home. I'd give him one or two, then toss the rest on the counter, to save them for a rainy day. He knew they were there. He knew they were there and every now and then as I got ready to go each day he would sit and stair at me and when I glanced his way, he would shoot his eyes to the sink top where the peppermints were. 'Hey, come on, just one?! I'll be good - I'll be good, I promise - just one?!"
I was saving them for a rainy day.