Dave was a wonderful companion. I loved how he stared at what was invisible to me. I kept trying to see something, because I knew something was there, but only knew where it was, and how it moved around, by watching Dave.
I'm sorry. It's so very, very hard every single time. I've been fortunate enough to hold a dozen such loves in their final moments. Their short little lives are never enough. I believe their lifespans are 1/10th of ours because they give us ten times the love while they are here. Sending love and condolences from afar.
I’m so sorry. I spent time before bed last night looking at pictures of Raisin. She died this spring and she was the canine love of my life. Her end was also not easy and the trauma of that loss so difficult and so I’m doubly sorry. I am still reaching for dog-related routines: to let her in the door at night but she’s not there, washing the smudges off the glass doors that stay oddly clear thereafter, the sinking feeling every time I come home and no one is circling the car. The loss of her uncomplicated love for me is the worst. And at a certain point there are fewer and fewer who offer that in one’s life (parents gone). I’m glad your books bring you so many favs, love, and devotion. Even if it’s not offered on a tongue like the tip of a spoon…. Woof.
I'm so sorry about your beloved Raisin. It's also our own ability to offer that kind of love that is so special. And missing all the routines that become second nature to us. Thank you.
Abby, this post is playing the blues on my heartstrings. Dear Dave, dear Sadie, dear Everydog who will die too soon. Our dear Casey has been diagnosed with The Big One and will not be with us much longer. For now he is still full of joy that brings me joy as anticipatory grief wells in me. Thank you for posting this lament. It helps.
Twenty-four years ago, I put our family dog, Oscar, down. He didn't have cancer or any noticeable disease. Just arthritis and old age. He was incontinent. I had so much guilt that I was putting him down. His three children had all grown up and moved away.He couldn't do stairs and I had to move to a condo with three floors. He was fourteen. I went through anticipatory grief for six months, listening to Mahler's 9th symphony and wailing on the floor. When the day came for my son and I to walk him to the vet's for his shot, he and I balled like babies over his body. We were inconsolable, and I couldn't eat for a week. That's my dog story, and I haven't been able to get another one since then.
Yes, the photos are beautiful. Currently I do not have any pets but have had them in the past and have experienced both the love and loss that goes with it.
This is so unbelievably timely - we lost my son's angelic pup yesterday, very suddenly. Percy wasn't even a year old and developed some random sepsis the vets couldn't explain or treat even after my son drove to 3 different cities and experts in the same day. It's beyond heartbreaking. He was an angel dog. I love what you say here about loving dogs, being in love with dogs. It's a privilege really, isn't it? Thanks for this xo
I love this: "There are dogs we love, and then there are dogs we fall in love with. When they die, the purest part of ourselves dies with them, the part that felt unconditional love for another living creature." Such a moving piece of writing, and so true.
I will never get over the loss of my dog, who died six years ago. His impact on me was profound--he went through everything and traveled everywhere with me. I think of him multiple times a day, and I still cry for him, sometimes. As you so beautifully put it, the purest part of me died with him. I was permanently changed. The day he died was the saddest day of my life. I will write about it one day. Still not quite ready to "go there".
Dave sounded very special... I'm sorry for your loss and understand how you feel... thank you for sharing.
Oh, Dave. I love the photo and your tender words in memory of him, Abigail. You have written so vividly about your dogs and I’m pleased to know Dave better through this.
Those moments when they leave. So painful and so filled with the purest love there is. xoxo
Dave was a wonderful companion. I loved how he stared at what was invisible to me. I kept trying to see something, because I knew something was there, but only knew where it was, and how it moved around, by watching Dave.
I am certain that having a dog has made me a better human being.
I know it has. They bring out the best in us.
I'm sorry. It's so very, very hard every single time. I've been fortunate enough to hold a dozen such loves in their final moments. Their short little lives are never enough. I believe their lifespans are 1/10th of ours because they give us ten times the love while they are here. Sending love and condolences from afar.
Thank you. I can feel them from here. Kind of you.
I’m so sorry. I spent time before bed last night looking at pictures of Raisin. She died this spring and she was the canine love of my life. Her end was also not easy and the trauma of that loss so difficult and so I’m doubly sorry. I am still reaching for dog-related routines: to let her in the door at night but she’s not there, washing the smudges off the glass doors that stay oddly clear thereafter, the sinking feeling every time I come home and no one is circling the car. The loss of her uncomplicated love for me is the worst. And at a certain point there are fewer and fewer who offer that in one’s life (parents gone). I’m glad your books bring you so many favs, love, and devotion. Even if it’s not offered on a tongue like the tip of a spoon…. Woof.
I'm so sorry about your beloved Raisin. It's also our own ability to offer that kind of love that is so special. And missing all the routines that become second nature to us. Thank you.
Love to you.
Thank you very much.
“fans”
Abby, this post is playing the blues on my heartstrings. Dear Dave, dear Sadie, dear Everydog who will die too soon. Our dear Casey has been diagnosed with The Big One and will not be with us much longer. For now he is still full of joy that brings me joy as anticipatory grief wells in me. Thank you for posting this lament. It helps.
Oh no, Rona. I am so sorry.
Twenty-four years ago, I put our family dog, Oscar, down. He didn't have cancer or any noticeable disease. Just arthritis and old age. He was incontinent. I had so much guilt that I was putting him down. His three children had all grown up and moved away.He couldn't do stairs and I had to move to a condo with three floors. He was fourteen. I went through anticipatory grief for six months, listening to Mahler's 9th symphony and wailing on the floor. When the day came for my son and I to walk him to the vet's for his shot, he and I balled like babies over his body. We were inconsolable, and I couldn't eat for a week. That's my dog story, and I haven't been able to get another one since then.
I'm very sorry. hope your guilt is gone, because you did what you had to, for his sake.
Yes, the photos are beautiful. Currently I do not have any pets but have had them in the past and have experienced both the love and loss that goes with it.
Love and loss. They go together. Thank you.
This is so unbelievably timely - we lost my son's angelic pup yesterday, very suddenly. Percy wasn't even a year old and developed some random sepsis the vets couldn't explain or treat even after my son drove to 3 different cities and experts in the same day. It's beyond heartbreaking. He was an angel dog. I love what you say here about loving dogs, being in love with dogs. It's a privilege really, isn't it? Thanks for this xo
Absolutely a privilege. Perfect word. And I'm awfully sorry about your son's Percy.
Thank you so much. He was so sweet, so clownish almost too good for this world xo
And of course so very sorry for your own loss.
My heart goes out to your son , Sue … what a tragedy .. losing a four legged is unbearably hard. So sorry for your loss
Thank you so very much for saying this - it's helpful when someone else really understands.
Yes, it helps. Thank you.
I love this: "There are dogs we love, and then there are dogs we fall in love with. When they die, the purest part of ourselves dies with them, the part that felt unconditional love for another living creature." Such a moving piece of writing, and so true.
I will never get over the loss of my dog, who died six years ago. His impact on me was profound--he went through everything and traveled everywhere with me. I think of him multiple times a day, and I still cry for him, sometimes. As you so beautifully put it, the purest part of me died with him. I was permanently changed. The day he died was the saddest day of my life. I will write about it one day. Still not quite ready to "go there".
Dave sounded very special... I'm sorry for your loss and understand how you feel... thank you for sharing.
Thank you. And I'm sorry your dog died, and the grief that brings you. There's no cure for it. Accepting another dog who needs a home can help.
Moved me to light a candle for you and Dave.
Very grateful, thank you.
Memories are sometimes better than words. That rainbow bridge at the end blesses us all.
💙🌈
Dave will be a blessing for me forever. Thank you.
Oh, Dave. I love the photo and your tender words in memory of him, Abigail. You have written so vividly about your dogs and I’m pleased to know Dave better through this.
Thank you, Wendy.
Sending hugs and love. 💕
Oh Dave. What a sweet, good boy. I am so sorry. Losing a dog companion like this is a grief that runs deep. Much much love your way.
Thank you, thank you.
Dave looks like the perfect gentleman and so content sitting in your lap.
I'm so sorry you and Dave went through such trauma at the end of his life. Remember you gave him a wonderful, loving home.
Thank you. He did have a good time here, we loved each other a lot.
Love is what counts!
Yes. Thank you.
It is always painful and disorienting when they leave us. I'm so sorry for your loss, thanks for sharing Dave with us
Thank you. Thank you for reading it and for getting it.