Ten years ago today, our beloved dog, Odie, ran away. She was let outside to go to the bathroom, but was forgotten that she was let outside. It was a lunar eclipse that night, but it was too cloudy, so we couldn't see a thing...and there was a foot (who knows, that's what we tend to say) of snow on the ground. She was around 15 or 16 years old (I'm unsure of her exact age), so it's not that we expected her to be around for much longer, but we obviously didn't want her to leave.
Some of us believe that she just knew that it was her time.
Maybe that was the case, I don't know. I'm not sure what I believe. All I know is that we looked long and hard for her for a few days following - I remember driving around with one of my brothers later in the week, hoping that we'd see signs of her. She had been left outside before, but she had always stayed in the yard (hence the belief mentioned above).
Every night since then, when I go to bed and say the little prayer that I say every night (unless I forget to, for some reason), I always add "Please let Odie come back." I told myself at one point last year that, since it would be ten years today, that I would stop.
I don't want to stop.
It's absurd to say it (in regards to knowing that she would never come back) - not that dogs can't, but she wasn't in the greatest shape anyways when she left, that, adding on ten years, it's unimaginable for her to still be alive.
My dad blames himself for forgetting he left her outside. I blame myself because, when I was walking up the stairs to go to bed that night, I distinctly remember, right before I hit the top of the stairs, that I had the worst feeling that something was wrong with Odie. I remembering thinking that I hadn't seen her for a little while that day (night), but I ended up brushing off that feeling, because for a while before she left she had been keeping quiet throughout the day, keeping to herself, sometimes just hiding away or sleeping in a corner or something...so I chalked my feeling up to that.
Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe we would've found her if I acted on my feeling.
It would've been at least a little bit of time between my dad letting her out and my "feeling," so chances are...well, chances are it wouldn't make a difference...but when you're that attached, you can't help but blame yourself.
I'm pretty sure we saw small paw prints in the snow on the north side of our house leading from the backyard around to the front...but, due to melting/traffic/etc., we were unable to trace it any further, really.
I remember sitting in class (in middle school) for a period of time after that (and even outside of school), and thinking/feeling that she was making her way to where I was...that she was finding me (or us) and we needed to look for her more. I'm not sure if I actually did this or not, but I remember the urge to get up from my desk (for whatever reason) so that I could walk by the windows of the classroom and see if she was outside.
Obviously Odie will not be coming back into our lives unless via memories, photographs, videos, or...well, heaven...but I'm going to keep saying "Please let Odie come back" every night. This isn't because I feel like it'll make anything better or because she was our only pet to not pass away in our house...but because I (we) love and will always love her. She was the first dog I ever knew/had and went [fairly] well with the first cat I ever knew/had (Garfield - yes, they were named after the cartoon characters - no they did not look like them).
I love you, Odie. I miss you.
Please come back.
~C
