Thursday, April 4, 2013

I Miss My Dog

I have spent the past few days missing my dog.  She was old, blind and leading a very unhappy life when we made the decision to end her misery.  Her passing was peaceful.  That doesn't begin to comfort me for the gigantic void left in my life.

She no longer greets us when we come home.  She doesn't lie patiently on the floor waiting for us to feed her something from the table.  She's gone.  It's painful.  I'm sad.  I still can't put her stuff away.  I haven't cleaned the leather sofa where she used to lay down with her muddy paws.  Her leash is still by the front door; her toys are still strewn about.

I won't have anyone to play fetch with anymore.  She won't steal my shoes and hide them on me.  I think I've spent hours looking for at least one of my shoes in the past five years.  Now, they're just always where I took them off.  She won't be digging the holes for me when I plant the annuals.  She won't bark at the mailman or chase rabbits in the yard. 

She gave me a great deal of love and affection, loyalty and trust.  Now, she's just gone and I feel empty inside.  She was my first and only dog.  I think I'd get another one, but my life is too up in the air right now because I want to flee Wisconsin at the first available moment.  It would be terribly inconvenient for me to take on the responsibility that comes with a puppy, not knowing where I'll end up, or when I'll get there. 

I admire people who have had many dogs and who have been through this.  It is not easy.  The joy she brought us is about equivalent to the pain of her absence.  I just miss my dog.  No politics.  No satire.  No sarcasm.  I just miss my dog so much.


3 comments:

Dale Leyland said...

Hi, sorry to hear about your dog. She was very lucky to have someone who loved her so much, and you were lucky to be able to share your life with her. Remember all the wonderful times you had together - she will always be with you in your heart and your memory - that is the gift she has given you.
Our dog died recently too. She was very old and we loved her dearly, so I understand about missing all the things you did together. We are both very lucky to have been able to have someone in our lives who made us smile. Not many people get that wonderful opportunity! :)

AlexisAR said...

our first dog, Or lady of Fatima, died when I was nine. I wanted to die, too. The pain doesn't go away, but you get more used to it, and eventually you can rememeber happy times without also having it dredge up a sad memory.

t=/the decision of whether or not to get another dog is a very oersonal one. Your reasons for not getting one right now while your life is up in the ari are very valid. For me, I was nine. The choice was out of my hands.my mom took my brother to the SPCA. She wanted him to get a dog very different from the golden retriever (probably mixed breed) that we lost, but he stopped in front of the cage of another golden retriever phenotype and cried when my mom told him we needed to get another dog, so she gave in. We have our second dog who is primarily golden retriever, and I've come to love her as well. Much to my twin brother's chagrin, she took to me immediately. She likes him, but I'm the one she'd orotect if she had to choose.

I wish you the best of luck in finding peace in this trying time for you.

Citizen X said...

Thanks for good stories and words of encouragement. I am getting better; at least, each day a little easier. Tara had lots of health problems and if I'm honest, it was worse watching her stumble around the house than knowing she is no longer hurting.