A loss felt hard

I can hardly believe we are almost into the third day of February already. January just flew by so quickly. My grandchildren’s school holidays came to an end and off to school they went this week to start another yearn of academic learning.

For me, this past week has been a tough one. One week ago, almost to the hour, my beloved canine best buddy passed away. A deep sigh and lots of blinking to halt the tears that are wanting to well up in my eyes as the memories of that moment and those afterwards of that day.

During the week I had a grand-daughter tell me she was happy to visit my home to be near him yet sad at the same time and a young grandson, too young to comprehend asked me if he was better yet. As hard as that was, I love that they are comfortable to ask me questions and reach out to me for comfort for something that is a difficult path for them to traverse at a young age.

The weekend was the hardest, especially Saturday morning, rising to go out and feed his companion and check on her and not see him standing at the door with wagging tail to greet me like he had done for some many years.

He had been a dog that my youngest son had rescued from being euthanized by his previous owner. My son had spent hours with him taking him on daily walks and training him to walk beside him with deviation, off lead and to obey commands. He was such a loyal companion to my son and then when he moved interstate, instead of re-homing him to another family, I asked to keep him with me as company and security. He never let me down once. He obeyed me, protected me to the hilt and was always coming to my side for a pat and snuggle.

A few years ago I added to my canine family with a pup fathered by my eldest son’s beautiful Great Dane cross and she kept my older best buddy company and they became best friends. She, being younger and soon much taller than him, had him moving more and playing again. She broke my heart last Saturday morning when I went out to check on her. She ran to his grave, looked back at me with a look of ‘what are you doing? Come get him’ and then when I didn’t move, she lowered her head, ran back to me and buried her head into me. I cried and I felt she did too. She was fretting so bad for him and my focus was on her to ensure she was going to be okay. We have shared many a cuddle since and lots of ‘I knows’. I am confident she will be my protector now, should I even need it.

Well, I didn’t make it through writing this piece without tears. I tried to. Doesn’t make it easy to read what I am typing and at this very moment I am grateful I touch type as I can’t clearly see a thing!

I am certain the heartache is as real as any form of grief one encounters in life. My dogs have always been a family member, not merely an animal kept in my yard for the sake of it. I have formed strong bonds with them and it seems more difficult this time around of one passing.

It is the unconditional love and the excited happiness that is missing with him gone. The intuition he had; always knowing when my chronic illness was flaring up and he needed to be extra gentle around me or that I needed a comforting snuggle. That is no longer in my world and I miss it immensely. I love the memories I have of him and the beautiful moment that my son captured of my gorgeous Bella and I giving him comfort.

RIP my beautiful boy xo

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