The last year has seen a lot of loss. Finalizing the closure of the business. Foreclosing on the condo. Ending the “relationship” with Type Geek. Transition to bad flat mate scenario, bad job scenario and ugh, bad dates. Through it all, I always had a goofy faced dog to keep me from throwing myself in front of the proverbial bus. On Sunday, at midnight, my darling dog passed away. She was young, too young. The cancer was a fucking unkind aggressive cunt and took my little girl before she was ready. I wish I could say it was peaceful. It wasn’t. She was confused, she was sad, and mostly she was terrified. When she finally realized she was about to die she began to wail. She didn’t want to go. 5.5 years… the day before she’s doing flips and playing and chasing squirrels. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t just go home and do that tomorrow. Why she woke up feeling awful and why that awful kept getting worse until she couldn’t move and couldn’t breathe and couldn’t live. We tried to stop the bleeding, so she could have a few more days, say goodbye, see her friends one last time. That didn’t happen. At midnight I had to put her down and it was the worst experience of my life. My last dog went in peace. She was ready. She understood. The cancer gave us time. This time, it kicked us in the heart and ripped us apart in 12 hours. I miss her. I wasn’t ready yet either.
Here is a photo of us snuggling over the summer. We had quite the active day prior and we were in full on lazy nap and cuddles mode.