It may seem like a sad place to start, but this is where I am. A few months ago, I lost my pet dog, Blackbeard. It was sudden and heartbreaking.
I did not know that he was sick. But the loss changed my life. I loved him. He was my best friend.
I still cannot believe he is gone. He was my world. Maybe too much of my world. I realized how much my life sucks without him. I realized how much I really hate my job. I was forced to change my perspective.
Then, there is the crying. I went to walk around the park and I was crying the whole time. I was trying to keep our routine. But it is not the same. My dad brought his pups over and even that made me cry. I even cry while writing this. Talking about him is hard. Grief.
I know Blackbeard is in heaven. He is with Buddy who we lost 7 months before. It does not make me feel any better because I want him here with me. I pray to God that he is okay. I told him that it would be okay before we had to put him to sleep. I need that comfort knowing that he really is in a better place.
Blackbeard was around 2 when I got him. And that is another story. I want to imagine he is a puppy again. He is healthy and happy, running around a green field or even swimming. He loved to swim.
I blame myself for what happened. How could I not know? Was he in pain and I never knew. Could he have been saved? Guilt.
And then there is the anger. Life is so unfair. And then there is confusion. How could this happen to my dog? I fed him healthy food and we watched his weight. We took him to the vet to examine his fatty tumors, yet he died.
The memories of that terrible last day haunt me. He was not able to move. We had to carry him to this horrible er vet place. I held his paw and looked into his eyes, when the time came to say goodbye. He was surrounded by the family in those last moments.
When I came home to an empty house, I thought how could he leave me alone? Like it was his fault he had a tumor. The house felt empty. His things still there without him. His empty bed, his water bowl, his favorite toys are all I have left.
Even though I have not gone to church in years, on Sunday I wanted to go to church again. There was a song they sung that I needed to hear. God knew I needed. The song was the Dante Bowe/David Crowder “God Really Loves Us.” The lines of that song say God is my friend. He loves me, and I am not alone. My faith is my source of strength during this time. I need God to heal my broken heart because only He can.
If I want it to be or not, it is a new day. My life goes on. I will treasure the time I had with Blackbeard. I still have to move forward without him.
Goodbye my sweet boy. Always in my heart, my Blackbeard.