“Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.”
I have been given the gift of more time and I am trying to make the most of that gift. I am trying to be happy and celebrate, but there are waves of grief that wash over me that sometimes make it difficult to breathe. I don't know how to do this part, but I know that the little time we have left together is not something everyone gets with their pup. Bear with me as I sort out what it all means and how to make it through this.
Bella found me. She came into my life during a period of transition surrounding themes of love. Sean and I had been trying to find our way as a couple, both afraid of commitment. Hearts and promises had been broken but we decided to stop fighting and try to learn to love. Within that time I was living in Colorado and he was in Rhode Island and I needed to leave home to be with him and start a new chapter. I had some unfinished business so we had some time apart doing the long distance thing. On my last trip to visit before the big move, he took me around his home town showing me all the things he loves and I was falling deeper with every moment.
We took a day trip to Block Island and quickly decided to stay for the night. We found a spot to take us and headed out to explore. We had lunch with a couple of Sean's friends who were getting married that fall and started talking about our futures. As we talked we disclosed we wanted to get a dog. They looked at each other and smiled as they said: "Our dog had puppies three days ago". After a round of drinks and some excited chatter, we were on our way to meet our puppy.
I pulled all the girl pups into my lap. Their eyes were closed and they were squeaky. Every one of them rolled away, except Bella who found a nook and relaxed. We were home. They kept her for us until I could come and get her a few weeks later and we have been together ever since. I have never had a home with Sean without her in it and I can't believe that's about to change.
Bella is sweet and she brings love wherever she goes. We spent every minute together and my heart exploded. I started to be able to feel love in a new way. She taught me a new way of existing and prepared me for marriage and eventually motherhood. In the spaces where Sean and I felt like quitting, we both refused to leave her, so we worked it out instead. She taught us how to put something bigger in front of our problems. She held space in bed when Sean traveled (which was frequently). She made my heart grow so there was room for everything I dreamed of and space to grow.
She settles arguments by laying down next to the person she felt was right, and each time we would burst into laughter because you knew the judge had spoken. She sneaks into the boys room at night to silently keep guard. She greets our guest with toys from the basket and welcomes them to our home. She is the best and I am so grateful for my time with her. I would give almost anything to make it last, but I can't.
On hard days when I feel alone or misunderstood, she is there. Her tail wags and I remember what love feels like. On happy days I lay with her or watch her playing with the kids and think my life is awesome. When we travel she gives us the cold shoulder just long enough to let us know she noticed we left her and then she gives in when she remembers how happy she is to be with us.
She never left my side. Until now.
I am a handful of days away from having to lay Bella to rest, and although I know this is what needs to happen, I still don't quite understand. This happened relatively fast and my heart can't seem to catch up. I could tell she wasn't feeling well, but she's 10 so I chalk it up to old age and kiss her when I can. But one day she fell and couldn't get up. I had no clue what to do. I posted on Facebook for help finding a new vet, called my dad to help with the kids, and carried her down the stairs. I wanted to avoid the ER knowing that by the time we arrived she would jump out and act like nothing ever happened.
Fast forward a few hours and we've discovered a mass that ruptured filling her tummy with blood and she needed surgery. There was a 30% chance it was nothing and we could go on with our lives. A 70% chance not. We gambled and lost. It's time and I am afraid. I am afraid of life without her. I don't understand my life without her. I can't comprehend home without her.
In the week I have left I am trying to hold that space of love. I am taking photos and laying in strange places so I can smell her trying to memorize every piece of this little heaven she brought to my life. She is my rock, my companion, and has brought out the best pieces of who I want to be and kept me company on my journey of bringing it to life. I need her. This family needs her.
I promised to try to have grace and know when to let go. I vowed that I wouldn't make her suffer because this pain is too unbearable. I am holding true to my vow and in that I want to recognize that 10 years is a long time to love so deeply and so be loved so deeply in return. My tears are for the happy memories and the not long enough journey we shared. My heart is broken from loving so much and that is a gift. Loving her has changed me and I wish I had more time for so many reasons.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for listening. Thank you for begin patient while I work this out.