When I put Callie down in April, I found myself doing something I said I would "never" do. Never. My wife and I agreed that as long as she was eating, going to the bathroom and going for walks, we could put up with anything else. But we didn't count on sneezing blood and bursting tumours.
|Summer - August 2013|
I said, "no more dogs for a while," but there is this love in me that can only be given to a dog. Nothing else will fill the void. (No, Jesus won't fill it, either.) It's my love for dogs - cuddling, chasing, pulling on a sock, barking back at them and their happy "welcome home!" when I arrive at the doorstep. A home is not a home without a dog, so we bought another poodle, named Summer.
But, I'm haunted. Not a single day goes by when I don't think about Callie. And, unfortunately, I am not reflecting on the loving times, unless I force myself. I am haunted by the final minute, when I laid my face next to hers and talked to her as she was put to sleep.
It makes me sick.
|Callie - January 2013|
I know it was the right thing to do - no regrets. But, I wonder how long I will remember that last minute as the life in her eyes - just stopped.
I can't stop thinking about it. It haunts me every day.
Summer is awesome. She fills the void and takes my love but, sadly, I can't shake it off. I'm not sure that I want to.