On the day after Thanksgiving, my doggie boy was acting listless - not interested in chasing squirrels, or in helping me to decorate our Christmas Tree. My gut was sickened. Although I had only adopted my guy 3 years before, I certainly knew him well enough to know that THAT DAY something wasn't right. NOT the day before, not the week before. Everything had been fine with The Clydester........
Until today.
A quick trip to our vet confirmed my fears - my boy was sick. Very sick. So much sicker than I ever, ever imagined.
Even though Clyde had had a glowing annual exam (except for being told to drop a few pounds), here I was, one month and one week later - staring at the X-ray- and somehow trying to stop the gasping for air that I was doing as I looked at the largest tumor that I had ever seen.
Her words - our vet's words - are fuzzy in my memory. The trip to the emergency clinic for the HOPE of the possibility of surgery. The second opinion. The ultra sound results showing the additional tumors.
The tears, the pain, the heartbreak - they are all crystal clear. How could this be??? How could I utter the words that I knew, without question, I must utter? My boy would never ~ could never, return home with me. To do so would risk him dying, in excruciating pain, from this tumor which was certain to rupture. How do you say those words. How do you let go, so suddenly, and with such heartbreak?
You do. Because you love them.
And so - that night, my life with Clyde ended just as quickly as it began.
Life. So fleeting. So fickle.
I am so very fortunate to have such an amazingly supportive husband, family, and friends who all understood that yes , I was grieving a dog. Over and over. At "Clyde's" lake, at the sight of his hair on the floor, when my husband lovingly presented me with his ashes.
The pain was so real. So intense. And yet as the days went on, I had to face Christmas. My children. Oh, my children.
My thoughts turned to them - my kids. And then it turned to those that I knew who had lost a child. And my heart broke even more.
Yes, I had lost Clyde. My good and faithful companion, but I had my children, which was so much more than some had. And with that knowledge, I found peace.
Life goes on.
New Years Eve weekend I received a text - a picture from a dear friend. It was a ragamuffin muttly dog who looked like he had been living in the streets of South Louisiana for months ~ just like my Clyde had.
Louis is quite happy now, after only 3 weeks. I feel certain that he is aware that he has won the lottery.
What I am not certain of is who needed whom more - me or him.
Life does, indeed, go on ~
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