Hurts to Say Goodbye

He was a small trusting creature and went down easily after she first injected the sedative and then the final drug which would cause his swollen heart to stop. It was over in less than a minute and something about the efficiency at the very end clutched at my own heartstrings in a strange sort of twisting of relief and anguish. Grief is a swift thief I suppose, at once seizing upon all of your senses and choking your breath in its stiff hands. His heart, in every way imaginable, was too big. The tiny tri-color spaniel adored each and every human, animal, and living creature he ever made contact with. He just loved. Without question or concern. His gentleness would often break me into a million pieces for the innocence of such a kind of affection. The world is cruel and uncaring in so many ways but in the presence of this little dog all you knew was to cherish and be cherished. Cavaliers are known to have physically enlarged hearts which makes them very prone to dying from complications of the disease they carry from birth. I guess you could say in that way we knew it was coming. His heart was too wide and too tall and wouldn’t stop expanding, eventually straining his every breath until he couldn’t take the pressure any longer. He would have endured it until he exploded. He would have done anything, trusted anyone. His whole life he was gentle as a lamb. Handsome and affectionate beyond. It is hard to let go of a presence as wrenchingly kind as Shamus was.  There is a hole, a void which is the purity only sadness can contain. I put his paw print impressions on the mantle over the fireplace, nestle them among candles and mini pumpkins. In the past I might have thought that was a silly thing someone would do, but sometimes small things feel more important than grand things do and maybe there are secrets only an animal can make you understand. As I look out across the autumn sky on the first morning in eleven years without the little furry guy at my feet, staring up at me with his gigantic brown puppy eyes, the wild geese are soaring like an arrowhead of dark shadows toward a destination far off over the hills. They cry out, and then they are gone. There is a part of me which is leaving and I can feel it and it is the color of pain. The air hovers cold and stationary over the invisible boundary between autumn and winter. Life and death. Season upon season. You can taste the snow on your tongue even before it begins its quiet descent into the empty streets. He was born on Friday the thirteenth and died on black Friday. I wore black, head to toe. Our little unlucky lucky charm. Don’t worry, he won’t feel anything, the doctor said, looking at me with kind round saucer eyes. And yet up until that final moment, for his entire life I believe he felt everything. And he deemed all of it good.

20 Replies to “Hurts to Say Goodbye”

      1. Yes, all of what you say is 100% the truth. Shamus was shy, he would curl himself inside out to make himself as small as possible when he met someone new. I will never ever forget the image of that. ❤

        Like

      1. My last two dogs were rescues in a manner of speaking. The first one was a Jack Russell (my daughter’s 1st dog) which I inherited after she went back to school. I had him for thirteen wonderful years. His name was Calvin and he was quite a handful…of laughs that is! The second was Mandy and I inherited her after my brother died unexpectedly a year and a half ago. She was a mini-Schnauzer and thirteen years old. She died last summer one year after my brother passed. I miss them both…probably Mandy was a bit tougher for me than Calvin because she was my brothers dog.
        Probably more information that you were bargaining for, lol, but there you have it. Best wishes ~ Dave

        Like

      2. Haha I smiled reading your note, it is funny and sweet how dogs have a way of bringing people together without ever a word. All kinds of dogs. I’m sorry, too, about the losses you have known. Life is strange and cruel and beautiful all at once sometimes right. Thank you for sharing with me during this time. I am grateful to you, Dave. Best wishes in return. 🙂

        Like

  1. I’m so sorry for your loss! We just lost our fur baby (had him for 12 years) back in June and that was the hardest thing we had to do, we literally rescheduled because we didn’t want to say goodbye. Saying goodbye to a family member is always a heavy thing💔

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s