Missing Mei Mei by K. Denise Holmberg


Mei Mei Holmberg
1997-2015
RIP
Have you ever done something you can’t reverse or repair, and find yourself unable to forget or forgive yourself?
May 6th, 2015 I did something that made me feel that way.
It was a beautiful day. I played Glassy Mountain golf course with my husband and a friend. It is a fantastic course, but tough and long.
By the end ... I was really tired.
Then we stopped in for BBQ at a delicious little dive.
Now I was really full and really tired.
Arriving home, I did what I always did first … I let the dogs out.
Only I didn’t let them both in.
Mei Mei was a week from turning eighteen years old. She couldn’t see much anymore, her hearing was gone, but she still had a bit of puppy spunk in her. Her appetite was great and her tail wagged constantly.
Mei Ling, her daughter, was about to turn fourteen, very spry and always right on my heels.
After the puppies did their thing, I walked back into the house through the garage, Mei Ling right behind me.
Mei Mei had developed a habit of going to the front door instead of following us through the garage. Usually I came in the house and went to the front door to let Mei in.
But like I said, I was full and tired.
The only thing on my mind was a long hot shower and PJ’s.
So that’s where I went … totally forgetting to open the front door for Mei Mei.
I just spaced it out.
I went to bed early and woke early.
That’s when I realized Mei Mei was missing.
My heart stopped when it hit me that I had never let her in.
I frantically started looking.
I posted a notice on our neighborhood web page and promptly got a call from a neighbor who said they heard what they thought was a baby coyote crying near the stream that runs behind our homes from 8:00pm until about 9:30pm the night before.
I knew it was Mei Mei, lost, alone, and frightened.
Christmas 2014 ... hiding from the Grandkids
Our house backs up to a thick wooded area and drops off into a gully with flowing spring water that splits into two small channels. We followed the channels and beat the bushes for days after she disappeared.
Our woods are filled with wild animals; coyotes, bear, wild boar, and other predators wander the forest. An old, disabled dog would not last long. Survival of the fittest. 
A few weeks later I got a phone call from a man that lived outside our back gate. He found a collar with my phone number on it, but no dog. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.
It was the first time I truly lost hope of finding Mei Mei alive.
My tears have really not stopped. There are always a few that fall each day … no matter where I am.  I think of her daily and know that I delivered her to the wild beasts.
Mei Mei was a sensitive and affectionate companion. When I was sad, she would not part from me, but curled up and stared at me, waiting to pass her tongue across my face like dabbing tears with tissue paper.
When I was happy, her tail wagged and she danced around on her hind feet to share my joy.
I’ll never know how my beloved pet died.
I don’t know if it was fast, falling prey to some wild animal that very first night. Or if she crawled under a bush to starve and die, not being able to hear my shouts for her.
 I can’t find her bones, even though I’ve looked, hoping to at least bring them home.
Her collar sits on my nightstand and I often examine it like it will offer a clue to where she is.
I’m not a stranger to the unwelcome guest we call grief.
I’ve had more than my fair share of loss.
But I’ve never felt responsible before.
I don’t know why God allowed this heartache, but I trust Him as a good father and am open to what can be learned and used for good.
Do you know what it feels like to unintentionally cause harm?
I would love your words of wisdom.
Blessings,
Denise


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