May 2 came and went without celebration or any special thoughts by anyone but me.  I walked to Darby’s grave and thought about the sweet little dog that enlightened my life and frustrated me to no end.  I still have not built his memorial as I cry whenever I get near his grave.  In all of the dogs that we have brought home for foster since Darby, I have been adamant that they cannot in any way resemble or act like Darby.

I still miss Darby.  I still think of him and I still wonder if I could have done more to protect his life.  But it is odd that I think of him on his day of death more so than I even know his day of birth.  He came to us without us knowing his actual birth date.  But he is the only dog in my life that I have ever separated from in which I did not get to say goodbye or get to hold as he exited this time and place.

I miss Darby.  I can’t express how much I miss that destructive but sweet dog.

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