Heart Like a Dog

The Good, the Bad, and the Oh My God of living with dogs!

A Year Without You

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My love, today it is one year since we helped you to the Bridge.  It has been the hardest, saddest year of my life.  Not only have we suffered through a pandemic and a year of isolation, I’ve also been dealing with a herniated disc, which gives me excruciating back pain. I thought it was on the mend, but just this past week it started up again.  As you know, Delilah joined you in December.  She helped me so much after you left. We knew we didn’t have a lot of time left with her, because of her age, but we had hoped she would be with us at least through the spring.Sadly, the best laid plans and all that.

I swear I have cried more this past year than I have cried my entire life.  The only thing I can say about this year is, I’m still here. But I’m lost, so lost. You and Delilah were such an intricate part of my life and right now, I’m struggling to make sense of how to continue without you. I wish there were visiting hours in Heaven, as I would give anything to see you and snuggle you again.

Golden Lab

Snuggle bug

Know that I miss you every single minute of every single day and life is just not the same without you my love.

Until we meet again, I love you with all my heart and soul.

Love,

Mom

Six Months of Missing You

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My love,

It is six months today since your dad and I helped you to the bridge.  I miss you.  I miss you more than words can say.  It has not been easy for me, moving through this time in my life without you.  In fact, these last six moths have shown me how much I relied on you, your joy for life and people, your calm demeanor, your ability to help center me and of course, your unconditional love for me.

I wish I could tell you that I’m fine, but I’m not.  I still have periods of sadness, when I miss you and I still cry.  I will tell you these periods do not go on for days as they did before. They are more like moments.  Sometimes moments strung together, but they are moments.

One thing I think that did help me was I made a place to honor you.  It was something I’d been wanting to do, but I wasn’t quite sure how.  I’d seen how some of our blogging friends had made memorials, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted for you.

About a month ago, I figured it out.

My Memorial to the Most Special Dog I’ve Ever Known.

It’s a little dark, but I know you can see it. The top is your picture, the tin with your ashes and your collar. Below it, is Roxanne’s tin and a Rainbow model. Jenna got the rainbow project last year for Christmas and wasn’t happy with the way she painted it. I knew exactly what to do with it. I added battery operated lights to each shelf and I set that shelf right in front of where Dad and I sit in the living room. It gives me some comfort to look up and see you right there.

I am also looking for signs of you around me.  Auntie Sheena tells me you are here, but my grief is SO strong I cannot feel you. Instead I ‘see’ you in signs.  When speaking with the animal communicator, I asked for a blue feather, you responded that was too easy, you’d send me a bird.  In fact, many days there are birds that stand on the rail of the desk and look in at me.  There’s been a Blue Jay that keeps showing up in the yard.  I take these as signs from you and they make me smile.

Of course, there are also times when I know you come through in Delilah.  Seconds where she lays her head on me like you used to, or she sleeps in a certain position that you did. Those are moments that bring me comfort and make me smile.

So, my love.  Here we are.  Six months gone.  Six months without you.  I’m here, I’m functioning, still standing, just maybe not as tall.

I love you so much.

Mama

Sampson Aragorn Stone – July 30, 2004 – May 8, 2020

Author’s Note: There are books to help you deal with the loss of your pet.  Support groups on Facebook and in real life.  Counselors who can help you work through your grief.  I am working through mine. It is NOT easy. The bond Sampson and I had was extremely deep.  It hurts me to be without him. It hurts me when someone says, “He was in pain.” “You did the right thing.” “He’s in a better place.” Those things might make some people feel better, but not me. 

“Grief is like an ocean, some days it is calm, and some days it can seem endless and come at you in waves.” Author, Jodi Stone.

Sixteen Years Ago Today…

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Sixteen years ago today we brought you home.

Twenty weeks ago today, we helped you to the bridge.

I wanted to write a really nice blog post to commemorate this occasion, but the truth is, I cannot find my words.  I’m still struggling mightily without you, so I thought I’d share sixteen of my favorite photos.

Your first day home.

 

Your first little “Roo.”

 

You loved the adventures we had on vacation. Here you are on your first boat ride in Tampa Bay, Florida.

Little Buddy aka 1st Mate

 

The next three were in Emerald Isle, North Carolina. Here you are on the porch of the house we stayed at.

 

Here you are ‘fishing’ with Dad.

You had so much fun playing in the water.

 

I was trying to teach Delilah “High Five,” but she wasn’t getting it, because she was too excited about the green bean.  You just walked up and gave me a high five, even though you hadn’t been taught it.

 

Before Delilah starting choking on the raw hides, you’d get one every night.  I love how you held it like a stogie. In this particular photo, you had gone into the bedroom, but the cat was on the bed and you weren’t too happy about it.  You came right back out, looking for someone to remove the cat. 🙂

This was taken at Julie’s Barks and Bubbles.  She was blow drying you after a bath and you just put your head back and enjoyed it.

 

I love how you’re looking at the camera, like you got caught doing something you shouldn’t.  I miss your kisses.

 

After a visit to the vet, we stopped at Dairy Queen and I shared my strawberry shake with you.

 

You had so much fun running in the brook in the field.  Once you came up with a leaf stuck on your face.

 

What’s better than a dog with sunglasses on?

I’ve heard some people say dogs don’t smile, but that’s not true.  You were one of the smiliest dogs I’ve ever known.

Smiling Dogs

You ran ahead on one of our hikes and when we rounded the bend, there you were!

Golden Lab

One of my favorite hiking photos.

Winter was your favorite season.

Grief is unique to each of us. We all deal with it in our own way. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. You were such a special guy and we had such an incredible bond. I miss you every single day.

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