My buddy is gone. I had to have her put down. She had wasted away to fur and bones. I will miss her. I do miss her. I miss the sound of her tags on her collar. Sometimes I imagine I still hear them. I miss her coming to me while I’m on the computer and putting her paws on my leg trying to get me to pet her. I miss our routine. She was always a reason to get up, ’cause she had to be let out and fed. I miss her following me from room to room. And man, I miss her getting the crumbs I drop when I ate at my computer. I miss playing with her, especially our little foot game. Fourteen years is a long time to be with any living being, especially one so smart and amicable as my dear pooch.
I think about getting another one, but it’s too soon. I did venture over to a couple of rescue sites just to see what that’s all about. (I had gotten my dog when she was only 8 weeks old). I’m thinking when and if I get another dog, it may be an older dog, and maybe a little larger – around 40 lbs or so. At any rate, I’m not making that decision any time soon. It’s only been two days.
I broke down when I surrendered her. In spite of all the rehearsing I had done in my head, I was not prepared for the absolute horror of handing her over to be put to sleep. If only she had tried to eat or drink in the last few days. That would have sufficed for postponing the trip. But 14 in dog years is a long, long, time. Her breed is said to live 11-15 years, so she did good. Still, another year or two with my buddy would have been nice. I know, I know, I still would not have been ready to part with her. I had no idea it would hurt so much.
Goodbye sweet pooch, ole’ buddy of mine. I hope you’re doing swell up there in doggie heaven.
