A Physical Grief

I don't find physical contact with loved ones that easy. It is the product of growing up in a household that didn't hug or show affection unless several large gins were involved.
That may surprise some who imagine me to be a big huggy type of guy.
Now, strangely enough, I AM tactile at work and can give physical comfort without any difficulty, but it is a skill I have had to learn and become good at.
I guess we are all products of our childhoods.
For almost every night for the past ten years, a small Welsh terrier forced physical contact from me with all the tenacity of a limpet. While the other animals slept in their own corners of the cottage and as The Prof sat in his own arm chair with a book or with some work, with a need bordering on obsession Meg would have to lie in the crook of my arm, or on my legs or even on my head and only then, would she settle and sleep, with the peace of a baby in her mother's arms.
Like I said..this happened every day for a decade.
Without her my body's muscle memory feels bereft and strangely unsettled.....and last night I found myself holding a cushion under my arm, as if Meg was still around, still and asleep in her usual spot.
Grief is an odd experience.....and the physical grief for a needy little dog in a person who doesn't find touch that easy is odder still.....