Not So Good Grief

We lost our beautiful dog Zoe on Monday 14/9.  She reached the grand age of 12 ¾ which is quite good for a Greyhound.  We made the decision to put her to sleep and, while the decision was not difficult because she was suffering, the aftermath is very difficult to deal with.

I returned to work the following day; I informed my supervisor what had happened lest I burst into tears at some point during the day (which I did, several times) and without my colleagues knowing the truth, they might simply make up their own minds as to what was happening and simply speculate.  My supervisor was very good about it & showed me genuine concern, knowing how much David and I love our doggies.  The blog pics from that week are not some of my best; my face is swollen from crying & I just look sad (see ‘Pleats & Pussy Bows’, ‘Enter the Dragon’ and ‘Rose Pink’).

David has been fabulous; he loved Zoe as well of course and is dealing with the loss as best he can in his own way.  David is more ‘highly evolved’ than me emotionally and spiritually, and has a much more practical view of life and death.  While in my mind I know that death is part of life and is inevitable, I still don’t deal with it very well.

I have been feeling very alone and isolated, a little resentful that life seems to be travelling on for everyone else when part of mine has stopped.  Very confused and finding it difficult to concentrate.  Very tired and even experiencing physical chest pain (maybe this is why people talk about ‘broken hearts’ or ‘heartaches’ because it actually does hurt)!  And can’t stop running the whole last day and a half of Zoe’s life through my mind, hoping I did the right thing at each stage, and wondering if I should have done something differently.  Not wanting to wash her blankets etc because I will wash her smell away.  Just doing & feeling lots of odd things.

Loss is not new to me; my mother passed away when I was 15 and my sister when I turned 30.  The feelings I am experiencing with Zoe’s loss are exactly the same as for my mother and sister, just not as intense and debilitating.

I am very glad no-one – yet – has been insensitive enough to say ‘it was only a dog’ because as I said above, the feelings are very much the same.  Because while I don’t believe in violence, I may just have to slap them!

6 thoughts on “Not So Good Grief

  1. Hello D,
    It’s me D~ again. It’s been a long time. I only wish to say I’m thinking of you, and I hope today is a little lighter than yesterday. You and your husband are a long, long way from me here, or I’d have you over this evening and cook something on the grill.



  2. MY sympathies. For some reason, my wife wanted to keep our obviously sick and dying cat to the end, so we did. Without thinking, I let the tub spigot drip and then put him onto the mat outside the tub. He’d had kidney trouble. When I returned from work, he was gone—dead and dry as a bone. Buried him along the edge of a field he used to roam in—with our neighbor’s permission. Rather hard–in November–with snow on the ground, and where we picked turned out rather rocky—but got it done. for health reasons (we both are diabetic and easily get infections–as we did with Tippie Cat) he was our last cat— I grew up with a cat and had one when we married–who then fought with my wife for a while for my attention! It’s been 5-6 years now, since he died. So I understand., So now you have two dogs…so glad you could! We miss the furry purry little guy (all of them, really)!


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