To understand this post, I need to explain Kilo. It would take a book to do him justice so I will summarize. Kilo was my husband's police dog. Kilo was a 110+ pound, all black, German Shepherd. We trained him from an 8 week old puppy until he died unexpectedly at the age of 8.
Tonight Sam was looking at Dave's miniature fire trucks on display in our bookcase. An 8x10 photo from the shelf above had slid down behind the display. Sam said, "Look Mommy, fire." I pulled it out to show him the whole photo, explaining it was a picture from one of our camping trips to the island. He looked at me with is bright, hopefull eyes and asked, "Mommy, we go back to the island and see Kilo?". I still haven't recovered. I mourn for our family's personal loss, I mourn for Murdoch's loss (he's our 11 year old dog), for the community he served, his partner's on the police force, and for the hundreds of people who phoned, sent cards and e-mails, flowers, and donations to the K-9 program. What a profound effect a few words from a little guy has.
2 comments:
Rarely I get to read things that make me smile and cry at the same time! I hope we all get to see Kilo on the island again some day...
I thought of the Akerlinds as I wrote this post. Mike was Kilo's most loved chew toys and friend. Kilo's ears would go back and his long tail would wag whenever Mike was around. I too hope to see Kilo on the island some day. Thank you for supporting us and sharing our grief.
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