I try not to think of the past the way I used to. No point in rehashing all the mistakes and the regrets you can’t do anything about so many years later.
But if there’s one day in the past that I can’t stop thinking about, it’s April 16, 2023, the day I had to let my 17-year-old Truffles go, the day I held her for the last time as she slept forever. Pet Sematary, I totally get you now…
I think about the things I could have done to prolong her life, like paying for that $1000 scan that would have told the doctor to increase her heart meds even though she no longer looked as happy as she used to, not since we had to move out of the house that was her home for 17 years and being almost blind and deaf, the new place just wasn’t home anymore.
I think about how feisty she was, and how ladylike, too, with her slender paws, expressive eyes, and sweet demeanor. I think about how she’d sit right next to me every day as I wrote my stories before reminding me a few hours in that it was time to get up and go for a walk.
Then I remember how she slept for most of the day during those last days, how her back legs were stiff, and how she’d look at me like she were tired and she was holding on only for me to get through whatever it was we were all going through as a family then.
Then as if knowing we’d be alright, she let go.
We have a new dog now but she’s hubby’s dog more, and that’s just the way I prefer it. Because sometimes there just isn’t any more room in your heart for another soul dog, no matter what all the social media posts say.
Sometimes there’s just room for one… and that’s fine with me.

2006 – 2023

