Otis...please come back...please

I can't stop seeing my beloved Otis' happy face...and then his face
when he died...I can't stop blaming myself for not protecting him
enough to stay away from that road. We live on a dead end street
with virtually no traffic and he never went in the road. I can't
stop crying hard whenever my husband cries. I can't stop feeling
sorry for my other pug, Isabelle, who, every time we open the front
door, has this look of hope on her face that Otis will be coming
through the door. I can't help but to cry when my two year old
daughter says "Otie is in the sky." I can't even look at his grave
where we buried him. I can't look at his bed, his toys, his dishes.
I can't wash the little shirt he used to wear when he was a bad boy
and did pee pee in the house.

I can't ever be whole without Otis back in my life.

I ordered a book on the afterlife for animals today...I need
comfort...I need to know that my good boy is okay...I need to know
he sees us and how much we miss him and love him.

I need to know I will be able to laugh and be silly again. This
house seems so serious now without our little clown.