- You are smacked hard in the face with the true meaning of unconditional love, and the sad realization you don’t have it anymore.
- You feel like there is no place for your love and affection to go.
- You miss their quirks. How they chased airplanes like you were under nuclear attack. How they loved eating lettuce. How the sole purpose of a toy was to tear at its heart, rip out the squeaker, play with the squeaker for days, and then add it to the collection of dozens of squeakers living in every nook and cranny of your house.
- You think about the adage, “dogs look and act like their owners” and realize that if you are half as cute, friendly, cool and smart as your dog was, you are doing well.
- You miss having your very own mall cop, sidekick, foot warmer, crumb sweeper and master cuddler.
- Your house feels empty, like it doesn’t fit you anymore.
- You long for the like-clockwork greetings your dog gave you every single time you woke up and every single time you came back home. Each time, they acted like they won the dog lottery, over and over and over again.
- You realize that your dog spoke to you because you knew how to listen.
- You put the behaviours you used to hate – the woofing, the barking, the tearing up Kleenex from the bathroom garbage – into perspective.
- You miss the responsibility, the complete dependence dogs bring and see it gave you a sense of purpose.
- You feel like you failed. That you had this one thing you could insulate from reality (“other dogs don’t get as many kisses as you”, “other dogs don’t get their pick of couches to sleep on”, “other dogs don’t know what waffles taste like”) and in the blink of an eye you exposed and lost them to the harsh cruel world.
- You know you knew they wouldn’t live forever. But to steal a phrase from a friend, you see now that you thought your dog was one of your invincibles.
- You realize that your dog was smarter than you. Smarter than most people. Your dog, like most dogs, have it all figured out. They are focused on all the right things in life: food, naps, play, curiosity and love.
Forever my best little man, George.
Passionately accurate … unconditional love never truly parts from us, but damn if it doesn’t hurt not having our little fur babies close to us to snuggle into and feel complete.
My deepest condolences. xo
I am searching for the one word that means beautiful and heart breaking.
I don’t choke up.
I choked up.
Glad you did this. Hope it helped. Cheers to George on a life that left a great big little paw print.
Somehow, when one being is absent, the whole world seems depopulated.
All my love.
So sorry for your loss. I remember the emptiness when Rocket and Mac both left us. And now I am going to go and scratch Ami’s belly and give her a big hug. Rest well George.
Thanks to everyone who left comments and condolences.
This was lovely. I’m sorry for your loss. Was George a cockapoo? I have a cockapoo named Miles and so these pictures grabbed my attention. Such great dogs!
Hi Jennifer
So sorry to hear about George. I realize some time has passed. Still does not make it any easier. Your thoughts resonate with me. I lost my brown Labrador “Hershey” back in 2009.You are such a great communicator Jenn. Your writing style eloquent. Thank you for sharing..
Warm regards,
Jeff
Thank you for reading, Jeff, and for sharing a comment. The post may be old, but for all of us, the memories of our four-legged little men will always be fresh. 🙂