As you might expect, Lion and I had a rough night. It’s lonely without our fuzzy best friend. There are no ears to scratch. No one to let outside a hundred times a day. No snoring from under the bed.
We worried that we didn’t get her help soon enough. What if we had gotten her to the vet when she first lost interest in her toys? What if we had gotten her in when she first started growling at us? We can make ourselves crazy thinking about all the what-ifs. The truth is, we’ll never know what if. What I do know is that I got to be home with her during her puppy years, and Lion got to be home with her during her final years. I’m glad I took last Thursday and Friday off so I could be with her more. And I’m glad she’s not in pain anymore. Now “all we have to do” is work on our pain from losing her.
It occurred to me on the way home from our last visit with Daisy that I’m more upset about her passing (and our previous dog) than I was about my mother’s passing. Or my father, for that matter. I thought maybe it was because their deaths were imminent. I was prepared. This morning, however, I think it was because they knew about death. They understood that it would happen eventually. They may have tried to hide their pain, but they were able to let us know what was going on. Daisy couldn’t do that. Not only are dogs notorious for hiding pain, but they also can’t openly say, “Hey. You know what? My hips are on fire, and I just don’t feel like playing with my toys. I think I need a doctor.”
I wish there were a device like the dog had in “Up” that would translate dog into English. I wonder how often she was frustrated that we didn’t understand what she was trying to tell us. Not just recently, but over the years. “No, no, no. Not the green dragon. The purple one.” Did she shake her head wondering why we gave her the Beggin’ Strip rather than the Pupperoni she clearly wanted?
The only thing that I can come up with that worse than losing a pet is never having that pet in the first place. Thank you for all the smiles and “woo woo woos,” Baby Daisy.
I think it is harder for us to lose pets because they depend on us for so much, they give us unconditional love (even our cats, in their own way), and they become part of us.
We have our own little pet cemetery in the back yard. Currently there are four dogs and one cat. We also have four living dogs that frustrate us and love us and cuddle with us and two cats who protect us from vermin since we are such poor hunters we can not do it ourselves. That is six more future residents of our back yard garden. I think that will be enough, but I thought that one dog ago, so who knows.
Hang in there, both of you. If/when you are ready, there will be another waiting to love you.
Thanks for your kind words. I don’t know what the future holds. I just want her back.
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