Yesterday, hubs took me to get a new puppy. I went to Riley’s grave and cried before we left. We went to look at one puppy and ended up coming home with his brother. He is the same breed, but looks nothing like Riley. I made sure of it.
He is a sweet, energetic little black fur-ball. I enjoy him, but I have no emotional ties to him. I pray that changes. As I sit in the floor and play with him, I cry because I miss Riley so much.
The puppy is a distraction. He takes constant supervision, as most pups do. My house is mostly puppy-proof, so I just close bedroom doors and he follows me around. Soph sits on the couch and watches him play.
I know I’ve fallen over another edge of depression; I can feel the tumble, yet I am helpless. I almost welcome it. Sophie, Riley’s female companion, is just as depressed. She is barely eating and will not come near the new pup. I hold her and we both watch the puppy while we mourn.