Puppies On Mother’s Day

Seven squirmy surprises

Photo by Lydia Torrey on Unsplash

“Tippy!” I stuck my head out the back door leading to the dog pen. She didn’t come to me. She didn’t make a peep. Fear explodes in my chest.

“Tippy!” I inch down the steps. She still hasn’t barked or run to me. Fear and anxiety violently spin around until they form a volcano.

I slowly make my way towards the dog house. “Tippy!”

She’s dead. She’s gotta be dead. Please don’t let her be dead. I can feel the Earth spinning. I feel like I might lose my balance.

It’s Mothers’ Day. I don’t hate Mothers’ Day, but it’s a hard day for me. Since I lost my mother in 2009, I try my best not to think about the holiday. I’m happy for everyone else that can celebrate the day with their mothers. I don’t complain about the hoards of social media posts. I don’t say anything to anyone. I just swallow the lump in my throat and get through the day the best I can.

I don’t know if I could’ve handled losing my dog on Mothers’ Day. She’s always happy to see me. She tries to give me hugs and attempts to jump in my lap. She’s always down for bonding time.

I keep calling her name like an idiot. I don’t want to look inside the dog house, but I know I won’t be able to do anything else until I do. I swallow the brick in my throat and take the final step. I…