Daddy left for 3 darks and now I have to go back to work.
How can I go back to work when I feel this way? I guess this is acting - "fake it 'till you make it."
There are paw prints in the blanket on "your" couch. Derby doesn't get on that couch and the prints weren't there yesterday. They looked like your dainty paws made them - Derby's feet are much larger.
Oddly enough, this does not freak me out. I'd be fine with you visiting once in a while. But I don't want your ghost to linger - you deserve to be happy.
"You can do this. You can do this." I know people die of broken hearts so I look at Derby and say "Just you and me - we can do it."
We can do it....
We love you,
Momma and Derby
Derby came out of her kennel after dinner on her own - progress.
I walked 2 miles on the treadmill to fill time and looked at the hair on the front of it the whole time wondering, "Should I clean that?". I know 90% of it is yours. You liked to walk through there getting from the front of the couch to the back via the treadmill, when it wasn't running. Why - because you could.
I left the hair where it was....
Stretching makes me smile remembering all the times you'd get in my way and pretend to fuss when I messed with your feet.
This downward dog is for you, Des.
Day 2 / April 2
I slept better - is that a betrayal? I did look and listen for you in the middle of the night.
Derby still did not sleep in your bed. I'm not sure if that's because she can have our bed to herself or because she knows you are gone. Gone.....
I can't bear to move it though. I can still see you in it - on your back, smiling in your sleep as you dream.
Day 2 has begun my Destin......................................
Derby and I went for a walk without you. Wasn't sure I could do it but I did. You loved your walks - LOVED them. For you it was quantity and not quality. You loved to go, go, go. Derby was always being tugged along. Daddy said you were always at the end of the leash trying to see more.
Today, we took our time. I was proud of myself - I didn't cry until I got home. It was really hard not having your spotted bum in front of me.... your happy smiling face in front of me saying "come on momma".
Your last walk was Monday. You died Friday. Your brain was sick.
Derby has always followed your lead - for 13 years. She won't come out of her kennel without me telling her to after meals - even though the kennel door is open. She looks for you and your dishes since she cleans up after you. It breaks my heart......
You aren't there. Neither are the dishes with your scraps from your food.
But overall the feeding routine just got a lot easier - I feel guilty for feeling a bit of relief about that.
It has always been hard getting you to eat. We had to hand feed you as a baby until you were about six months old. You were so darn picky. It makes me smile thinking of all the kibble you'd leave lying around as a baby. You'd pick up your food and move it to a different spot - but wouldn't eat it. If we hand fed you, that seemed to please you - our little spotted princess.
Daddy is leaving tomorrow for business until Thursday. It will be really, really, quiet and lonely while he is gone. I'll write as much as possible and try not to sink back into despair.
I can't believe Day 2 is coming to an end...
Moved two pictures of you where I can see them. It helps - a teeny, tiny bit.
Derby walked behind the couch - the right way. She doesn't do that - it was your thing. I can't help but think she was looking for you.
I painted my nails a Destin gray today. I'm wearing gray until I don't feel gray anymore.
I love you, Momma
Day 1/April 1
With out you .......... in it.
Sucks – I miss you!
I want you here………….
We have been cattle dogging in your absence. Where you would wander, we wander. Where you would stand staring out the window, we stare. We are making your rounds for you.We cannot fill your void, though. Our feet don’t make the same click, click, click on the wood floors that yours did.
We marked the time of your death at 12:30 pm yesterday. But it was not your only day…….
We have 16 years filled with many days – filled with many wonderful memories.
I’ve lost my shadow.
That last night, Thursday, you counted again. You counted your pack. You poked me on the arm, you poked me awake at 3:30 am. Poke, poke. It used to be a nightly occurrence sometime in that 3 a.m. hour. Once I looked at you and pet your velvety spotted head that last night, you went back to sleep. It was almost as if you were saying to me, “I’ll be alright Momma, whatever happens today.”
Daddy drove us to the vet. I sat with you in the back. You always loved riding in the car. I knew you’d try to look out the windows and want to stick your nose out to smell the wind. Your hips were so bad I knew I’d need to support you to keep you from falling down over and over again.
The hour-long ride was cruelly short – but you loved it. We have pictures that I can't look at yet. We didn’t know it would be your last ride……
Your last day…..
Your last everything….
We’d talked about it though. We had to do what was best for you – our Baby Des. As I am writing this your sister is smelling your doggie bed – the one that is always in the living room - the one we had in the car for you yesterday as well.
Yesterday……………… You were with us. Today you are not.
Neither your Daddy nor I wanted to get up today – to a day without you in it.
Day 1 ...........................................................
Emptying the dishes, we pulled out your, now very clean, silver food bowls. I couldn’t deal. I took them down to the basement right away. Eating was always a challenge for you. We learned you lost five pounds yesterday since the last time we’d been in – just a few months ago.
We tried lots of different things to get you to eat. We made special dog stew, wet canned dog food, even meat-only baby food. But standing up for long periods of time became the problem – not what was in the bowls. Even with all the medicine we gave you, your hips challenged you constantly.
I see you everywhere and yet you are not here…..
Here for me to see….. Feel or touch. Or to help your muscles, help your hips get up the stairs by putting my hand on your rump for some extra support. Time and time again you’d stretch your legs on the stairs and almost fall. This was not a move for a really smart dog and it made me laugh – but you were going to do what you wanted to do. You were stubborn to your last breath.
You would’ve loved today – it snowed about six inches - the light fluffy stuff. You loved snow. You’d roll around in it – rub one side of your body in it and then the other. It was like you were giving yourself a snow bath. You were just playing in a dwindling snow bank in our yard last week. Daddy laughed how you were perched on top of it to do your business – it was like you were anchoring your feet down in the snow.
Bedtime is approaching – a second night without you. I’m relieved the long day without you is over – but it’s night two... I’m sure I will stop counting …..
Baby Des, I hope you are happy and free of pain (we are not). But I’d do it all over again. You were worth every. Single. Minute.
I love you, Momma.