More Alone

Not too long ago, I complained I was never alone. Now I’m going to be alone in a way I didn’t want to be. On Friday, we will put our beloved dog to sleep. His body can’t hold him up any longer.

It’s heart-breaking to see a dog continue whose body has failed but whose mind is fairly intact. I find myself dissolving at the most unexpected moments and I can’t picture life without him. Why does this seem worse than when my father died?

There’s so much else going on in the world and in my personal life right now. Murders, calls to defund the police, marches, protests, job security, death, uncertainty over absolutely everything. I don’t want to say goodbye to my best friend.

5 Responses

  1. I’m so sorry my friend. All my love.

  2. I’m so sorry. Pet deaths are harder than people deaths in some ways because the love is more straightforward. I am sending you love.

  3. I’m so sorry for your loss. This is the most difficult thing – it’s the price of a life filled with love.

  4. We lost our dog in April right after his 15th birthday. A colleague admitted to me that it was harder to lose his dog than his parents. I think there is some truth to this because our dogs are often like our children, our constant companions, and they rely so heavily on us. It is so painful to lose a dog and to have to make that choice when they seemingly understand what is happening. It’s just heartbreaking. I know from experience that the first two weeks are the hardest. I keep their dog tags on my key chain and often find them with my fingers in my pocket. And I really treasure all the pictures of happier, healthier times. Hang in there.

  5. Oh, I am so very sorry. This is the hardest and there is truly nothing to be said to make the blow softer. He knows that he is loved and that is all I am going to say.

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