I was on the couch, because being anywhere else felt too difficult. I moved only when I had to, and the sound of her squeaking her new hedgehog toy was comforting, when it usually annoyed me. I knew she was at least in the same room, and happier than me. It was far too beautiful outside for us to stay inside, but all I could think of was everything I’m afraid of losing, of all I have lost, my failures, and of how I can possibly handle whatever comes next.

I quietly called her name. I wasn’t crying, because when you’re this achingly sad there are no tears. She ran over to where I lay and jumped up, wiggling in between me and the back of the couch. It only took a few moments for her to lie perfectly still, so I assumed she fell asleep. Although she’s bouncy and playful, she is 7 years old, so she sleeps a lot. But more than that, she’s in complete harmony with me. I didn’t forget that but I haven’t needed her so much for some time. As a puppy, she came to me in my darkest hours. We’ve gone through more adventures and emotions than any relationship I’ve ever experienced with a human.

I played with her ear and then I started to softly cry. I asked her if I was going to be okay. I thanked her for being patient. I told her I loved her and she’s the most wonderful dog in the universe. I was careful to whisper, so I wouldn’t wake her up. I kissed the top of her head and told her she made me brave. Then I felt her eyelashes move on my arm.

She was never asleep.

This dog. This dog, who I chose and who chose me when we most needed a person, showed up just because I asked for her. She laid there with me and didn’t talk because she can’t. She knew it was time to just lie still and be empty and sad and accept extra love because I had to give it to someone who loves me back.

Maybe she wished she could be with her hedgehog; maybe she wished she could speak. All I know is that today dog eyelashes got me off my couch when no human words could.

She was never asleep.

s.jensen