I haven’t known what to write about lately…everything has been so fucked up.
I’ve been at a loss for words and all of that.
But I need to write about this.
Tonight, as my daughter and I watched some TV, our eldest dog Maggie started to pant profusely. After a few more minutes, she was struggling to breathe. She seemed extremely out of it and wouldn’t eat a piece of roast beef that I had offered her.
We called the vet office that we took her to last time back in January which is closer now to our new house and since they are a 24-hour clinic, they advised us to bring her in.
Since we were not allowed inside due to the virus, a vet tech came out to get her while we waited in the car.
She could barely walk.
It didn’t take very long before they called us with the bad news. She had a tumor on her spleen that had started to bleed into her stomach. They said that surgery wasn’t even an option because she was already in the process of dying.
They came out right away to get us, so that we could be with her during her last moments. In the rush, my daughter had forgotten her mask but they were kind enough to still allow her to be with Maggie.
I asked a few times to please hurry with the syringe of whatever it is that they use…we didn’t want her to suffer any longer than she had to. My daughter let me do the talking since all she could do was sob.
I cried into her fur, talking to her, petting her softly and thanking her for so many years of unconditional love. My daughter was completely hysterical. Maggie had watched Brooke grow up; she had been her best friend.
Maggie was an old dog, at least 13 years old. We’d gotten a reprieve back in January, just enough time so that Maggie could enjoy having freedom for a couple of months with a yard to romp around in.
Our surviving dog Maya is sticking close to my side while I sit here in front of my computer typing this. I’m up so very late (how can I sleep?) and her sister is missing.
Dogs grieve just as much as humans do, only in different ways.
My God, my sweet girl is gone.
How many cracks can a heart endure before it completely shatters?
My mom’s one year death anniversary is coming up on May 20th.
My best friend’s mom died going on two weeks ago from the fucking virus.
It feels like death is everywhere, there’s so much loss, endless pain and watching my daughter’s grief-stricken, shaking body hunkered over her beloved canine companion of the last 12 years was almost too much for me to witness.
I am burnt the fuck out. Almost completely depleted.
If I could scream right now without scaring everyone in the house, I would, so fucking loudly that the windows would shake in their frames.
Maya keeps walking around, looking for her now deceased partner in crime. How do I comfort her?
How do I comfort myself?
How do I comfort anyone when I don’t even have the words anymore?