It's been six months...

and God, I miss her.

It will be six months exactly on Friday the 20th, and I'm still far, far from being over Kira's death. It's hard to describe, but at times it feels just as raw as the moment I heard SD utter the words "she's gone". Those are words I'll never, ever forget.

Some days I still relive it. I can't help but think about it. I go over and over the pain of the whole ordeal, what I imagine might have happened, her skinned nose, the feeling of her velvety soft ears between my fingers, the shirt I was wearing when I held her for the last time. Some days I feel like I've been suddenly punched in the stomach as I drive by the vet where we took her, or pass the telephone pole by the spot where she got hit, or close the front gate, which we've now secured a thousand different ways. Sometimes I feel like crying when I see a picture of her flash on the screen saver, or think about a particular spot in our yard where she used to like to stretch out in the sun. A lot of times I do. Some days I still think of her as just being away. I catch myself thinking she's somewhere else, lost perhaps, and that maybe she'll come back. I know this is insane, but I haven't been able to stop those thoughts from coming.


And the worst part is, it's been six months. I know that time is supposed to make things like this better, but so far I still can't imagine a day when I'll be completely past it, or even somewhat peaceful about it. It still hurts so much.

We love you Kira... you'll always be a part of us.