Losing a pet is tough. This is not the first time and it won’t be the last. I am feeling the loss so deeply these past days, avoidance and distraction my only means of coping.
I feel responsible, in a way, for not knowing she snuck out. She was always trying to get outside, but wasn’t allowed. It is dangerous out there and I just didn’t want to chance it. A lot of good that did.
She escaped. I had no clue, even though she slept between my legs most nights. Not every night, if she had been there every night, I would have realized the implications of her not being there. I woke up briefly that night, cold, wondering where she was, and went right back to sleep.
She returned. When my Husband was leaving for work the next morning, He opened the door. All I heard was “What the hell!?” and I jumped up. Somehow I knew before He told me, my subconscious realized what I didn’t. My Husband began talking, I only heard
I watched her limp across the floor to my bedroom, under our bed, and lay down. I grabbed a flashlight and got down on my hands and knees to check her out. No blood. Nothing looked broken. But her eyes…her eyes told the story and I knew she was hurting, I knew she was traumatized. She had been a part of our family for ten years, I was her favorite, and I just knew she wasn’t doing well.
I cried there on the floor, my heart breaking. I am an animal lover, she was a part of our family, and I hate to see anything suffer. My Husband had a tough time consoling me, but He held me and stroked my hair until I could breathe. He said we needed to leave her alone and let her rest. We think it was a snakebite. A vet couldn’t help and we read many stories of full recoveries. Husband said we just had to wait it out. Though I hated to watch her suffer, I was hopeful she would get better and I didn’t want to put her down if she’d be fine.
Three days. She lasted three days like that…resting. I prayed she would recover. I pet her head often, laying on the floor, reaching under my bed, tears drenching my face, my hair, my shirt. I told her how much I loved her, how sorry I was. That third day, her breathing became labored and she couldn’t even open her eyes to look at me. I knew it was time. I told her to let go. An hour later she let go, leaving me with a broken heart and lots of memories.
My sweet Husband buried her in the backyard. I cried, He cried, the kids cried. They haven’t cried anymore, but I do. I miss her greatly, especially when I sleep.
I know the hurt will ease up, but this really sucks.