Warning: this is a very raw post, almost immediately following the death of one of my beloved babies, no time for me to process or make sense out of things.

I’ve been through it before. Losing a pet. It never gets easy, though. No matter how many times you’ve been through it. Each critter is so unique and special, that you grieve one just as immensely no matter how many times you have grieved before.

I deal with loss of pets on an almost daily basis at my work. There have been times when I am stressed to the max at work and then find myself passing a distraught pet owner. I almost always think, “My goodness, I need to suck it up. Things could be worse. I at least have healthy pets.”

Now I’m the distraught owner. The heartbroken momma. It’s me. It’s my turn. And I am hurting. Bad.

When I got my first dog (Shiba) as a child, I remember rushing to the library to find a book about dogs. I wanted to know how long they lived. No internet in those days for a quick search. The answer back then (almost twenty years ago) was approximately ten years. When I read this, I thought, “Oh, okay. When the time comes, I’ll be an adult and I will be able to handle death well and accept it.”

Silly little Daisy. It was okay to be naive. You were only an eight-year-old.

When Shiba finally passed (she made it to thirteen, ya stupid book!), I was on the verge of turning 21. Of course, I cried for days. I was just as miserable as I would have been as an eight-year-old. I just turned 29 last week and once again, I will be bawling my eyes over next few days.

I will think about Cholula constantly. I will feel sorry for myself. I will feel an immense emptiness. I will voluntarily become a recluse. My eyes and my heart will be heavy. I will more than likely smile and laugh at things that make me do so, but deep down, I will be mourning.

I already miss her so much! Her kisses, her bouncy gait, the way she begged for treats at my leg, her fearlessness when climbing my bed and couch, her constant attempts to escape, the sound of her little feet running across my wood floor, her little round ears, her cute little paws.

Oh, tiny little furry princess. Cute, lovable little thing. Mommy loves you so much!

I can’t.


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