Jersey's room

I miss Jersey the most at night before I go to bed even though we didn't have any special nightime rituals which make me think of her. She didn't usually sleep with us, she didn't jump up on the bed to say goodnight.  She would generally fall asleep on her bed which was on the floor in what we called "Jersey's Room."

She did have her routine which involved walking from roon to room at about three o'clock in the moring. She would make sure all of us were where we were supposed to be; safely tucked into bed and sleeping.  Only then would she go back to one of the rooms she called her own and go back to sleep knowing she had done her job and that all was well in her world.

She always liked her own space.  When we were living in Colorado, we had a futon in the office.  She would usually pass out on that at the end of the day.  She would snore and twitch as she dreamed about chasing rabbits or running in the dog park. Of course, I don't really know what she was dreaming about. I could only guess as her eyes flutterred, her legs and toes twitched and she made the same kind of yipping noises she would make when she saw a rabbit.

She was always independent.  She had her special places staked out.  During the day she could be found on the guest room bed, the love seat in the den or on the leather couch downstairs in the "Man Cave."  I tried to keep it covered up but today there are scratches and scuff marks where she would sleep and stretch her long legs against the back cushions.  On Sunday nights, I lie on the floor of the man cave watching TV.  It's when I'm reminded it was one of her favorite spots.  It's another one of those times when I miss her most.

Today, I have a candle on the window sill of Jersey's room. The place in the house she could think of as her own. The candle sits over the scratches she made when she would paw at the window as she tried to get the attention of people walking on the sidewalk past the house, letting them know she was on patrol and had her eye on them. I can still see her either asleep in her bed or sitting in front of the window, looking.

Each night I stand in the doorway of that room which is bathed in the orange flicker of the candle.  It's then I feel her loss.  I talk to her and tell her how much I miss her and love her.  I let her know the light in the window is her spirit shining out for the world to see. There is some comfort knowing it's there as if she still has watch over the house. I let her know when she see's the light, she'll know where we are.

I go to sleep thinking of her. I'm glad for the feeling she's still going from room to room, watching over her family, making sure we're all OK