Loss of a pet- day 2

DAY TWO AND THREE - TEAR THE BANDAID OFF

Off to the Tahoe condo, the pack’s playground.  Walking through the front door was overpowering as her harness and leash hang on the dog rack by the door.  No more walks.  No more pictures to post of her on her back in the sun. 

Freed of the strict medication schedule, we went to bed early.  I put her sister to bed, next to her empty bed.  No early alarm, we got up late.  7:00 on the alarm clock in the morning reminded us that we were victims of being downsized from our latest job.

Back to sorting through the two of everything, setting hers aside.  What to do with that stuff?  There is no way to part with it that seems comfortable.   Keeping it in a cardboard box in the attic feels weird.  As the only pack member who fit under the couch, a treasure trove of her favorite toys had me on hands and knees.  Her hiding place from which only I could coax her out. 

We did an early morning hike along the flume trail, the pack’s “go to” all season adventure, stopping ever so often to remember where she dashed off for squirrels, where we took pictures.  More tears.   Marzipan every so often stops and looks back up the trail, the direction from where her sister would always come catching up.  More tears for her.  My wife opens up about her mom’s last days when she was the primary caregiver.  She brought Uschi with her for company and support.  Uschi and her mom, now bedridden, bonded and Uschi wouldn’t leave her side.  That puppy had so much love to share. 

Before she passed, time flew by.  Now I feel I’m watching the second hand of an analog clock, pressing down, stifling.  How to stay busy, how to escape the grief?  I guess that lesson is when you are happy and occupied, time flees.

Back home I find yardwork as a distraction.  She was always private about her business, sneaking off to a place where no one watched her.  I found one of her poops.  I couldn’t pick it up, I left it as a tangible memory.  Will it survive the winter?

Her illness was hard, but I embraced the opportunity to prioritize her happiness in my lifestyle.  Trying to give back all that she gave us.  

 TWO WEEKS OUT – EVERYTHING IS OK, RIGHT?

We picked up the ashes.  They were nice and professional.  I can’t get my mind off the image of her lifeless body in my arms as I carried her to the hearse.  Everyone else is upset, I find purpose in giving them comfort- my wife and her sister.  I think my private thoughts about her when I wake up in the middle of the night.

We saved her favorite hike for last.  There is a nice resting place halfway through the hike.  A spring comes out of the hillside and the otherwise all pine tree blanket is interrupted by a sheltered little grove of aspen, nourished by the spring.  She’d take water and eat the sweet grass, always something to nose out.  We left some ashes in the stream and some in the grass, which was that strange post frost green as it presses on with life before the permanent winter snow arrives.