Staring into the Void

It was supposed to be a fun Friday. I took the day off and my wife and I woke up thinking we were going to be taking a road trip to Northern Michigan. However, our dog Jovi had a rough night on Thursday night, and Friday morning her old legs weren't working much better.

Hive account@mrsbozz found me crying at the kitchen sink and we finally had the conversation we had both been dreading for months. She made the call to the vet (I wouldn't have been able to), and within the next two hours and copious amounts of chocolate (because every dog should get the chance to taste chocolate), we had said our final goodbyes to our steadfast companion of 14 and a half years.

I'll be damned if The Beatles "Golden Slumbers" didn't come on the radio as we were driving her to the vet. Thanks for the stab in the back universe...

Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing could have prepared me for the crushing sadness this was going to bring. Wave after wave like person lost at sea. Just as I thought I might get some respite, another wave would come crashing into me (us).

As the day passed, I started to realize one of the things that hurt the most was the emptiness, the void. She was gone and of course that hurt, but the absence of routines, things that we would do at a fixed time with her, the absence of certain sounds, and even the absence of some of the annoyances she brought in her old age.

I can't tell you how many times I expected her to be peaking around the corner, or laying down next to me on the floor. Pulling into the driveway and not seeing her peaking through the blinds is torture. No longer will we be greeted at the door after a long day at work with her barking and telling us everything she witnessed during the day.

We have started to clean some things up, but there are others that we just haven't been able to touch. Toys, beds, her leash.

We went for a walk today, something she loved to do, we just couldn't bring ourselves to go to our old park though. She loved it there. She would get so excited when we even said the word "walk".

There's a good chance we won't wash this window for a long long time. Right now I can't even imagine attempting it. I am sure there will be a day, but I don't even want to think about that.

My wife and I were talking the other day and we agreed that neither of us were even this sad when we lost our grandmothers and we were very close with our grandmothers. I know that probably sounds horrible, but I can't remember my heart ever breaking this much.

Everything just seems so pointless right now. Our lives are so much emptier now. The house is so quiet and everything is just one great big meh. We have to go back to the vet early this week to get her ashes. I know that's going to bring another wave of grief our way. Can't say I am looking forward to that...

I know people mean well, but I almost think their kind words make it hurt more than if they just kept their mouths shut. Of course I am not saying I want people to do that, but every time it's like a cut. I have to give respect to the company Chewy though. Later on Friday I cancelled our account and the next day a delivery man shows up at the door with these flowers from them. I'm talking about a global company. They took the time to do that. It still makes me a bit teary...

I cried less today than I did the other two days, and I know it will get better with time, but right now... I don't know. Whatever.

I can understand why people dive right into getting another pet right away sometimes. The emptiness is ridiculous, I know some of you have gone through it. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I can definitely understand why people turn to drugs and alcohol to numb the pain. I know it isn't healthy, but if I could just block this all out I would.