Little Dora

Walk With Mom 

I woke up this morning

wanting to write.

That in itself is not particularly noteworthy, but given the funk I’ve been in for several weeks, it has the air of a breakthrough
about it.

A rather high-intensity personality, which I come by naturally from a long line of intense types, when coupled with certain key stressors, can sometimes make ‘showing up’ a major accomplishment, let alone showing up for my blog.

On A Walk With Mom 

I will not waste time by listing them all this morning, but will only note that the loss of a close friend sealed the deal. That this friend was of the four-legged variety has little bearing on the devastating sense of loss that accompanied her death.

The week of her death was utterly wrenching — watching her suffer, nearly unbearable. I waited, hoping and praying for either a miraculous recovery or a speedy death. Neither came. So I bundled her up in preparation for a trip to the kitty doctor to help her make the transition. She cried as I wrapped her and lifted her from her bed. As I juggled the door, keys, and kitty, she began to convulse, which at first felt as if she were struggling in my arms. She died then and there. I felt her heart flutter a few times, her breathing stop, and watched as her eyes glazed over. Little Dora was gone.

Among The Dahlias

Ever Hopeful

Losing an animal friend who has shared your life for years is no different than losing a human friend. 

The sense of loss is the same and anyone who says otherwise is either lying or emotionally stunted. I still wake up in the morning and glance in the direction of her bed. I still see dark shapes — a carelessly tossed sweater or a shadow in the flower beds — and for a moment think that it’s Dora.

Her Radiance

Our living, breathing, sentient, four-legged sisters and brothers walk beside us, sit beside us, sleep on us, and make us laugh. They sometimes annoy us, provide a sense of commitment to something outside ourselves, and give us one of the rarest things on the planet: unconditional love.

I know that another fur-covered friend will enter my life again, but if I have my choice, it won’t be for a good long spell. There will be no rushing to fill the empty space, only waiting for the grieving process to resolve.

Snoozing In The Garden

It is getting easier, but I still miss her purring, warm little body napping on my belly as I relax in the evenings. I miss her. 

Dora & Darling Daughter II

That is all.