It’s often difficult for me to remember, but there was a time in my life before Eko. A time when I knew how to live without him if only because I had yet to discover the bliss of living with him. Penny is not so fortunate. From her first day home when she ambitiously attempted to breastfeed from Eko, right up through his last day on Earth, Penny never lived a moment without her big brother. For the first time in her life, Penny is alone.
Eko and Penny made the most beautiful music together. Ode to Joy brought to life. They bounded down the beach, crashing into each other like cymbals. A whirling symphony of teeth and claws and unbridled delight. People would stop and watch their furious improvisation, awed by the power and grace of my living instruments.
I have poured my love and attention into Penny these last few weeks but there are some things which I cannot give her. My slow feet and dull teeth cannot join in harmony with the song Penny needs to play. She’s tried to find a new partner to join her, but it is no easy task.
The difficulty with finding Penny a playmate is that she needs someone who challenges her. Someone who tests her strength and speed and revels in the cacophony she creates. Eko was the perfect match. He would romp with Penny, and when he decided the show was over, he’d put her in a bear hug. I can’t provide Penny with that bear hug, but I figured I could at least provide her with a bear.
We met Andrew and our old pal Leo at the beach this past Sunday. Now roughly the size of a small planet, Leo is exactly the type of powerful and playful friend Penny needs.
Together Leo and Penny created a wonderful sound. It wasn’t the familiar ballad Penny played with Eko, but it was a beautiful reminder of that blissful tune.
And if only for a moment, the matching smiles of these two dogs made my soul sing.
I cry for the music I’ve lost, but I’m grateful for the reminder to open my heart to new melodies.