The garbage men came today. (They “forgot” to pick up our bin to two weeks ago).
As gross as it is … the last of your poop has left our home. In time, the remaining paw prints, and fur will too…
I struggle with the fact that there will soon be grass in the yard you haven’t touched, skin on my hand that never scratched you, and most importantly, windows without your nose print.
I’ve vacuumed a few times… that’s hard. It took me two weeks to be able to vacuum – I felt like I was ‘getting rid’ of you.. I’ve washed the sheets, of course …. but I haven’t washed your ‘Finny Fort’ pillows…the blanket you passed under, the floors you walked on, or the mat you drank & ate off of…. and I haven’t washed the side window with your nose prints.
This isn’t something I was prepared to deal with; Tank misses you.
Tanks heartbreak makes my heart hurt even more. If that is even possible.
Its obvious – he’s struggling.
He seems lost. Sad. & lacks energy.
He loves you.
We are loving on him, of course – and I’m trying to walk him, and keep him busy. But, with his old hips, we can’t walk like we used to. You can tell he misses you, my boy. Things aren’t… right. Not normal.
We always called him the “Best Big Brother” (BBB)… while you were the “Annoying Little Brother” (ALB).
Nobody deserves your fate but 1000% it shouldn’t have been you.
Is there something I could have done to save you before it was too late? Did you get into something? If so, what? We kept our house so safe… you were always supervised. Was this an injury you had from your time on the streets? Was it the Meloxadin?
We did everything to keep you earth side and knowing that wasn’t enough is just… painful. I feel like I failed you.
I’m angry you only got one Christmas with us, but am glad you got to celebrate it with our entire family – and holy heck, you were spoiled! So many toys & treats.
I’m angry you only got one birthday with us … and I’m sad I bought your gift a day late (but you did get your hambuggie!)
I am angry you got ONE gotcha day
I am mad you got just over one year of feeling loved and having a safe haven. I am angry that you departed only one year after knowing what true and unconditional love was. You deserved a life full of happiness – why was that shortened to only a year?
I guess in that year you accomplished what you were set out to do.
I have too many questions; questions that cut deeply. I’m unsure when or if those questions will fade or become easier not knowing the answers. Of course, I want to know … but I also realize they will remain unanswered. I need to, someday, come to peace with that. Until then. My heart races and I have anxiety feeling like I failed you and your sweet little face.
Oh, my boy, I had big plans for us – I wanted to go rolling blading with you. I wanted to take you to the river. I wanted to take you camping. And goodness, did I want to walk (and watch your tush wiggle and your ears bounce) – I wanted to walk.
I never, ever, ever, thought we’d be saying see ya later so soon and that’s a hard pill to swallow… did I take our time for granted? I’m not sure…. I hope not but I feel I did because “I should have had 10+ more years” with you.
Truthfully, we feel empty – and that’s selfish – you gave us so much. I hope you knew and felt the love we shared for you. You are our son. Our boy. Always will be.
Oh, my boy. We miss you so much. Life just… isn’t the same without you. I know you wouldn’t want us to be upset but … we are. The last few weeks have been awful. You were our heart… our household comedian. You were the final peg in what made our family complete – and boy, were you loved.
You were the dog I LONGED for – part of the reason we bought a house. You were exactly what we needed, and we were exactly what you needed. A match made in heaven – we were so happy.
I carefully “selected” you (but truth be told, you selected us) – I still remember the very first time I saw you on the adoption social media account. I knew you’d complete our family – and you did. Did you ever make yourself at home quickly.
Since your passing….
The mornings are the hardest… as are the nights. You know what? The days are hard too. I wake up every morning looking for you in your ‘Finny Fort’ … I miss saying “ok let’s go little boys!” when I let you out of the room. I miss letting you out. I miss feeding you, I miss your slurps of water. I miss checking on you while you sunbathed on the hot tub. Oddly, I miss picking up your poop…. I desperately miss walking you …. I miss you.. in all your glory.
At nighttime, I miss organizing the pillows so you had the perfect “Finny Fort” to snuggle in. I miss you tucking us in and grumbling when we moved.
I miss you finding your safe haven in your closet, or you latching on to Daddo when you felt vulnerable. I miss tripping over you in the kitchen (I’m sorry for ever getting frustrated with you). I miss you touching the fireplace. I miss you. I miss your black shorts (aka – your “chicken eating shorts”) and your speckles.
Above all, I miss your kind, soulful eyes. My boy, those eyes could warm a cold heart from miles away. We had wordless conversations, the two of us. You made me feel warm, safe, welcome and heard. All without saying a word.
I miss our old normal – I haven’t been able to go back to anything “normal” since you’ve left because it hurts. Simple things like meal prepping… going to the gym… even working is hard because you “should” be *here*.
I miss telling you you couldn’t come with me when I left the house, and you accompanied me to the garage door – then me returning and seeing your cute face in the patio door waiting for me … or getting texts from Dad while I was away and it’s a picture of you waiting for me. I miss bonking you on the snoot opening the door coming home (you always got too close!). We had such a regimented “schedule” for your past 6-7 months….. I’d kill for that schedule back. I don’t want things to go back to ‘normal’.
I miss how excited you got when I put on my “outdoor feet” to take you for a walk – oh man, you loved your walks – your wagger worked 1000%. I’m sorry I didn’t walk you more (even though we walked lots)! I wish I had taken more videos of us walking, oddly enough, the videos I posted on instagram are what is giving me the most comfort … your ears could make the darkest days bright. You never failed to make me giggle.
I miss you accompanying me to work and how I’d usually get you a “chino”. I love how you loved the car, and how you’d balance on the centre console. I always called you my navigator. I miss you running into the garage whenever you had the chance and slooooowly sauntering out when I said it was time to get out. There was a few instances where I put you into the car even when we weren’t going anywhere.
Why is “life” so cruel? So unfair. You were the kindest soul with the sweetest eyes and you had a sense of humour to boot – seriously, if you were human you’d be the ‘dreamboat’. . You didn’t deserve a single thing you endured, except us as your family – we were a match made in heaven. Why did it only have to last a year? Why do other families get 15+ years? Why not you? Why not us?
It’s been 22 days (since I wrote this blog) since we made that heartbreaking decision and life moves on – and that kills my soul. I don’t have you – how can life move on like nothing happened? Why are people acting as if life is ‘normal’?
22 days and it still stings … I still cry when someone mentions you. I still cry when they don’t. I still cry when I think of you. I still cry when I look over and you’re not *there*. In fact, the memories I have of you hurt my heart, while also comforting me…. I’m just trying to love on Tankie.
With that being said, memories are starting to feel like this was all fake; were they real? I can’t imagine you ever laid next to me…. Or that you kissed me. It feels like a nightmare, to be honest.
I hope our memories together never fade…we both know they’re real … and that the time we spent together is never forgotten. I know I’ll never forget you, my boy.
I am ensuring your legacy lives on… although I wish this wasn’t the case – I’d rather you be here. I am creating something in your legacy, I am not sure exactly what, but it’s called “Finn + Friends”.
