The years keep ticking by. As of tomorrow, it’ll be nine of them since he left this world.
Memories fade. I hate that.
I remember not wanting to let go of the grief, because I worried I’d forget what it was like to be with him. Sure enough, after all these years, it’s difficult to conjure up his essence in my memory. I sometimes get Piezon’s personality confused with Max‘s. They are very much alike in that they are Australian Shepherds (same body language) and both black & white. Except, Piezon had only a little white fur, while Max is about one-third white. But, their personalities are different.
I fooled myself into thinking Piezon needed me. When in fact, it was I who needed him. I fooled myself into thinking I trained Piezon, when in fact, it was he who trained me. Those are both traits that Max does not have. Max absolutely needs me, but it was Piezon who taught me how to train both of them.
I’ve written so much about Piezon. Perhaps if I go back and read the dozens of essays or poems about him, or his eulogy, I might remember his personality/presence. But, reading those makes me cry. I don’t want to cry. I want to smile when I think of him.
He was my soulful, wise dog. You’d think that would make him like a serene sage, but, nope. His cheerfulness gave him so much energy he was always wiggling with excitement. My Max, well, he’s sort of moody. Piezon, only had one mood . . . HAPPYYYYYYYY. Nothing could bring him down, not even a broken leg when he was five months old. I want to remember his joy and spread it today.
So, sing along with The Happy Song.