I remember when Alex died, I was in a state of shock and relief for the first month. When the tears hit, they didn't stop and will still surface.
The first morning he was gone, Brut (then 8 mos. old) was lying in Alex's spot in front of the sliding door. And my heart stopped.
I remember at roll call, almost calling out his name, every night. To this day when rounding up the troops, Alex's name will still pop out.
For months I would start to step over "Alex" and his spot.
Every time I was out, I would rush home and think, "I hope Alex is OK," and then burst into tears.
I can't tell you how many times I would be missing Alex and wished Brut was more like him.
The silence and space was painful to get used to without Alex's booming voice and large presence.
I remembering kneeling on his grave and burying my face in the dirt, sobbing that I didn't know how I was going to go on without him. It was the closest I could get to him.
And I remember Alex when I have been touched by others losses and grieve a little more for this wonderful, beautiful dog who graced my life in so many ways.
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