On Tuesday, 30th October my eldest dog Poppy (I called her Poptart) had to be put to sleep. She had been having seizures the previous weekend and it was established that something was growing on her brain and that it would just keep getting worse.
We adopted her just three years ago at the age of 12. We were initially told she was 14 but her booster card said 12. And on one of her last vet visits, we were told she was 13. So her age is a mystery, but I believe she was 15. I could barely function after she died. I threw myself in working on my new house and ignoring everything else. I didn’t meditate, do my morning pages, practice my German, blogging, etc. I wasn’t in work because I had taken the week off for house stuff.
I’m still not 100% and I probably won’t be for a while. I try to tell myself that she’s in a better place, she’s young and she’s healthy. Today I went back to work and I avoided everyone because I knew they’d be asking how my week off was and I couldn’t pretend it was a good week.
I hope we made her last three years comfortable and I do believe I will meet her again someday, along with the other pets I’ve lost. There has to be something beyond this.