Missing Him

I find writing to be therapeutic and this blog is my writing place so.....  this is where it's going to happen.

There may be some people out there who think, oh, he was just a dog... but that's not the truth.  Yes, he was a dog.  But he wasn't JUST a dog.  He was a family member.  Anyone who has truly loved an animal knows that they aren't just anything.  They are one of us.  I don't think the amount or the strength of love changes much depending on species.  I love Jax more than I love most people!  

Also, it's interesting for me to note that when people offer condolences to me regarding the death of my dog, they say things such as "I know how much you loved him."  I totally know what they're meaning, but I find it interesting that they put my love for Jax in the past tense.  I loved him when he was alive.  I love him still, even now that he's gone.  My love for him hasn't changed at all - what's changed is my ability to tell him and show him how much I love him.  Well, I guess I could still tell him but there's no way for me to know if he's getting the message or if I'm just talking to myself.

Everyone knows, when they get a pet, that someday the pet will die.  You have no way of knowing if it'll be before or after YOU die, because let's face it, we could all die any time.  But you kind of have an expectation, you know?  The average life expectancy of a dog is X years... depends on the breed, size, health, etc.  But I know some French Bulldogs that are 15 years old.  Jax was (and Abby is) healthy.  Jaxxie had skin and food allergies but other than that he was healthy as a horse.  Abby had some knee problems but aside from those she is as healthy as they come.  Neither of them had weight problems, both were fixed at 6 months of age, never been on antibiotics, never been seriously injured.  I expected them both to live to old age and die naturally.  

I didn't expect my healthy, strong, happy, loving boy to be dead a month before his 3rd birthday.  I didn't expect his sudden decline.  He was fine and then seven hours later he was gone.  How did this happen?  I am left to wrap my brain around my new situation, my new life without my buddy.

I miss him.  I love him.  I feel as though I failed him.  I would give anything to see him just one more time.  Give him one more hug, one more scratch behind the ears, one more kiss on his wrinkly head.  I would do anything to mess with his jowls just once more.  Have him beg for a bite of whatever I'm eating.  Snuggle with me one more time.  Just five minutes.  Just to tell him how much I love him and thank him for spending his life with me.  Just to tell him how sorry I am that I didn't know that piece of the toy was still in his room somewhere (yes, our dogs have their own room. Lol.)  Just to tell him I'm sorry I didn't see the signs of him being sick earlier.  Just to tell him I'll never forget him and I'll love him until the day I die, and even longer.

Abigail misses him.  She was fine the last couple days but today seems more depressed.  She didn't want to eat her breakfast (although eventually she did.)  She keeps laying down and sighing.  I'm heartbroken for her.  Even though she saw his body, I'm not sure she understands.  Maybe she does... I don't know.  She can't tell me.  Maybe she understands but is just sad.  We're all sad.  We all miss him.  

I feel as though I can't move on.... if I move on, it's like I'm saying it's okay that it happened. And it's not okay.  I feel as though he deserves more time from me... I'm not saying I want to dwell on it.  I'm saying I feel as though I have to.  He paid with his life for our negligence.  I have to give him more.  He deserves more.  I don't know if that makes any sense.  I feel as though I deserve to feel sad and terrible for letting him down.  He was so innocent.  So trusting.  He trusted us to keep him safe and we didn't.  He's dead.

This is our 3rd day without him.  It's not any easier.  It's just so wrong to come home and him not be here.  It's so wrong to drive up and not see his little fawn face with his black mask and big ears peeking out the window.  It's wrong to hear no sound coming from behind the dog gate.  It's wrong to see Abby on the couch all by herself.  It's just so wrong.  It's all so wrong.  

I miss him.  I love him.  I hope he knows that.