The dreaded day finally came,
the day we had to say the saddest, most heart-wrenching of goodbyes.
Yesterday, on Wednesday, September 19th, 2012, our sweet Bailey girl took her last breath.
Our veterinarian came to the house and Kev & I cradled her sweet face in our arms and said goodbye to the kindest, sweetest, most humble and honest soul we've ever encountered. We will never be the same. It's hard for me to understand how in an instant, she was gone. The only small comfort we have is that although she is gone, so is her pain. She doesn't have to limp across the lawn anymore, trying to be brave for us, her courage something truly inspiring to behold.
She was our best friend and she shaped the people we have become over the past 9 years together & it's impossible to think about what life will be like without her warm brown eyes, gentle wagging tail, and loving heart. In the night, between bouts of bitter tears and dreamless sleep, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, straining to hear the sounds of her nails clicking across the wood floor, I swear I could almost hear them. I could picture her chin resting on the arm of her couch, hear her sigh and flip upside down, all four legs straight in the air, imagine the softness of her fur.
Almost...
I am at a loss, the pain of kissing her soft head one last time has left a void that is incomprehensible, a pain that's tangible as I walk through this house, careful to avoid even glancing in the direction of her favorite spots... the sun drenched couch by the windows, her closet "cave" lined with fur she's been shedding lately, the messy spot in the kitchen where her bowls used to be. I can't even imagine going outside, I've made an effort to avoid even walking by the window that overlooks her grave underneath the apple trees, overlooking the pond. I know the first time I step out the door I will automatically look over my shoulder and say "goodbye" to her out of habit & reflex... I will suddenly realize I'm talking to a ghost, a memory, the friend I cherished but now I've lost. I know when I walk to my car I will instinctively look under the truck she used to nap beneath, try to avoid the site of her little burrows beneath the Alberta Spruce trees in the garden amongst the Black Eyed Susans.
One day I will be able to walk down to that somber place beneath the apple trees and I will talk to my one and only girl and I will cry, but that won't make the sadness stop, although I hope it will help ease the pain.
