Sad news

The day I knew would arrive happened last night. I came home to find Harper wasn’t able to raise herself from the back legs. She had been in decline for some time, including failure to keep her back side up without having her hind legs go out from under her. I knew in a flash this was it. Someone and I called the vet but was told their ER service was overwhelmed. We found a local vet ER which couldn’t have been better. The nurse, technician, and doctor were sensational. We agree it was time. It was done quickly. She was sixteen years old.

I often encounter patients who have lost their cat or dog; there is no anguish/sorrow like it I tell them. I tell the tale how sixteen years ago when I brought Harper home, she and I were so excited as we drive away from the rescue shelter. In the joy I thought to myself someday this dog will grow old and die on me and when that day happens it will be one of the worse days of my life, and there is nothing I can do about it. But this is the price we pay for loving someone; it hurts so when they go.

Last night as a means of closure and to prevent me from going into blubbering hysterics in the ER, I read some quotes. One was the opening line from one of my favorite poems, ‘The lost hotels of Paris’:

The Lord gives everything and charges by taking it back. What a bargain.

When Father died, Brother #4 said it was ‘20% grief and 80% relief” for his quality of life had been poor for some time; we were all waiting for his passing with mixed feelings. It was the same with Harper. For some time, she’s been incontinent causing daily messes and she had to be helped up on the bed. When she died it was 80% grief/20% relief. Last night I could finally sleep with the bedroom door closed and I didn’t wake to see if the dog had died in the night.

I feel so sad; as I type this, generous tears fill my eyes. I will probably feel this way for some time. Nothing can be done about it, and that’s OK too. At times it is OK not to be OK.

You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But there is also good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp. Anne Lamott.