That was his favorite spot, next to me.  Whether I was sleeping, sitting on the sofa, doing dishes...Bengal was happy to be near me. 

A parking lot puppy who came to us with issues, I promised to always do my best for him.  And I tried.  He had issues, he was just a street kid, after all.  He didn't have a mom to teach him how to behave properly. 

In the end, that's what did him in.  His temperament, so sweet and loving, was unpredictable and becoming more so.  After numerous dog fights and finally a blind strike that hit me in the arm I was forced to realize that Bengal needed to be let go.  He needed to be free of this body and brain that had the wires crossed somewhere...and so, with tears, I let him go.  My first failure, the first dog that I couldn't fit into the family at Kaos.  The first dog who taught me that sometimes loving means saying "I can't help you any other way."  I hope I've learned that lesson and never have to take a refresher course because, God, it hurts.

Every cold night that I have to reach for a blanket because my furnace-boy is not there, I'll think of you.  And every time I want a dog who follows me around, wanting nothing more than the brush of my hand on his head to reassure him that he's loved, I'll think of you.   

It's a little chilly up there, with Nikki, Sasha and Tasha...curl up with the girls for warmth.  Tell them you're my rare, one-of-a-kind short haired, brindle Siberian and that Mom said to be nice to you.  One day you'll be sleeping beside me again Bengal.  Until then...I love you.