He is my Brother
I may not have wiped his fur from my shirt, or felt his sloppy tongue on my face in his moments of excitement, but he is, and always will be, a brother to me.
We go way back, in many ways – Simba and I. He cried the whole way home when we picked him up. His mom couldn’t put away her smile, eyes beaming as she looked down on her baby. My unknown brother. Grandma slept, herself surely overwhelmed with joy as she too had journeyed to see the little one and bring him home. Aunty Ami drove as the trio turned quadro added one wet nose, two ears, and four legs.
He had far from a normal life (being dutifully spoiled and loved by his mother the way he was). He enjoyed the finer things in life, but also the simple – chewing on his favorite hedgehog, chasing balls, and partaking in the finest of canine culinary experiences.
We are his legacy
I think of him often, my unknown brother. His legacy is one left behind in smiles, excitement, and joy. His is one also left behind in tears, sadness, and fear. I miss him dearly - for loss is an absence, and much of him was absent from my life for so long.
Although part of him is absent, a part still remains. His pictures continue to touch me, and so many others. His stories are still told, and his impact on the world is still felt.
Every smile he leaves behind is a part of him, and something we share. If you’re reading, smile at someone today. Smile right now.
Bring him to life, and meet my brother.
Inspired by Simba
(and The Black Keys, whose song will forever bring Simba to life for me)