Thursday, September 27, 2012

Fuck fuck fuck

The worst day is the day your dog dies.

I know this from experience. Way fucking too much experience. Five times now. The latest being today.

Our nine-year old girl Cotton yelped in the middle of the night and by the time we got to her side a minute later, she was dead. The vet thinks maybe a stroke, but we'll never know.

We are devastated. Heartbroken, wrecked, achingly and overwhelmingly sad. I couldn't function most of the day because of the weeping.

My friend HGM posted this quote on Facebook:

"It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them, and every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart. If I live long enough all the components of my heart will be dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they are."


Yeah. That. 

****

A few days ago I was sharing some work-related anxieties with a colleague and she said, "But I always thought you were so confident!" And I thought, "huh - I am!" I think the only way I can be confident is cuz I know my anxieties.

Same goes for happiness. I only get to be happy because I know grief. Days like this one, I just wish I didn't know it so gawddamn well.  


X to the O people. And I'll leave you with this picture of my sweet, special girl Cotton and me. I'm gonna miss that chin.



2 comments:

  1. It is the worst day. The worst day is when the loving-without-wanting-anything friend dies. I often have sympathy in situations, but here I have empathy. I used to think that the phrase "it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all" was b.s. I know differently now. Lucky you. Lucky Scott. Lucky Cotton.
    Sue

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  2. I'm so sorry for your loss, and I hope that some day your heart is wholly dog heart too.

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