My first dog (as an adult) was 9 when I adopted her from rescue. She was already a senior. She quickly became my other half being the young college student I was. Almost a year and a half later, cancer took her from me. It was the most profound loss I had endured. With her came so much happiness and healing during a time when I felt incredibly lost. To have to say goodbye so soon…was unbearable. I mourned intensely for so long. It gutted me.
Now I sit here typing this with my second dog pushing into my leg, snoring away. A dog who has been with me for a third of my life at this point. I'm often reflecting, due to his sugar face, at what things were like when he first came home. It was just a few months after my first passed away and I was not ready to love another. I remember saying to myself that I would train this second dog, but I would never love another. Right.
I write this now because it has been an intense emotional time for me this year watching things change for him. He was 2 when he came home. He is now 12. I feel like I am in a pre-mourning stage. Every day feels like those times when you go on a trip to see a family member and you know it's the last day before returning home. You feel this brewing urgency to take in every single second…to be fully present so you can burn this into memory.
When I feed him, I'm thinking "I'm so glad you're still here for me to have this routine with you." Buying his pain management meds makes me think "I wonder how many more months I'll still be able to buy these." These thoughts are accompanied by the bit of relief I feel knowing that he is in a deeper sleep nowadays — yet the gut-wrenching realization that he doesn't require hours of exercise. He spends most of his time sleeping anymore.
The sugar creeps down on his chest, shoulders and feet now. His spine isn't flanked by thick muscle. His body is covered in skin tags and fatty lumps. His eyes reflect blue in certain light. His winter jacket, the same one he started with when he came home, hangs a little different with his thinner body.
With the physical changes come the very normal behavior changes. Being sensitive to handling regardless of having a behavior expert as a mom. Not coming to bed at night. Protection of food & special treats. Startle responses when in a deep sleep. The pride I've always felt about having such a perfect dog is a little lighter these days. He's still perfect…just in a different way.
I've told him daily that I wish for him to someday pass restfully in his sleep. My last girl had a very traumatic passing. I can only hope we avoid something like that. I used to say that I couldn't wait for him to be a stinky, lumpy, old man. Here we are.
I'm both grieving and grateful.
