When asked about Maddie's advanced years, I've usually responded with a smile, a laugh and the comment, "She's going to live forever just to piss me off." Well, this morning, my heart aches to tell you that Maddie did not, in fact, live forever. Last night we had to put her to sleep and my little joke in retrospect seems so cold, cruel, and foolish.
Yes, Maddie made me crazy. Whether she was bolting from the yard to devour the neighbor's trash, or taking a dip in the pond, sneaking on to the couch the minute we left the house, or peeing in the basement in defiance of us going out, she was always making a statement. No shoo fly pie, loaf of bread, or bowl of spaghetti was safe when Maddie was around, and the garbage can still has the rock on top of it that our little thief necessitated.
But while I could do without the missing food, clean up duty, hair balls, and stinky dog breath, I am mourning the loss of a constant companion. One whom I secreted enjoyed sharing my bed with, tossing a ball to, and hearing her teeth chatter when she got excited. My sweetest memory of Maddie was when I lay sick in bed several months ago and called to her in my time of need. Back then she was afraid of the wooden steps to our room and rarely if ever had made the climb, but hearing me call her she faced her fears and arrived at my bedside to snuggle with me when I needed a friend.
The pain of saying goodbye to my friend Maddie is much greater than I could have ever anticipated and I'm not sure when it will ease. Perhaps the only thing worse is knowing how much my children are grieving the loss. Abby wonders "will I ever stop thinking about her?" and Ian seems to be trying to balance his need to be a strong "man" with his broken heart.
If anyone can suggest means of healing, please share them. And I'll leave you with a couple pictures of our naughty but lovable girl:
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| Maddie, the bed hog, looking half human with Abby's legs |
7 comments:
Kim, we just went through this a few months ago with our diabetic cat, Gandhi. It had gotten to the point where he'd ruined the carpet on 2 floors of our already small house and his treatments and care cost far more than our modest budget could bear. I thought I would be relieved to finally have a justifiable reason to let him go. Still it was much much harder than I imagined to lose him. Please tell your children that they will shift from thinking of Maddie all the time and having it hurt to a time when they'll think of her often with warm memories. It does take awhile for the ache and sharp sadness to lessen, but our family has gotten there in just 4-5 months. The big lesson I've learned from this and other deaths of loved ones is that the only way you get to the warm memories is by experiencing the pain. So go ahead and cry. It helps you get to the happier place.
Here's the the Marleys and the Maddies of the world. Hugs to you and a big sloppy kiss in memory of your girl.
Kim - I'm so very sorry for your loss. It really breaks my heart. I always loved reading about your adventures with Maddie. The petloss.com website was always helpful for me. Whenever I miss my old pets I go look at the Tributes I posted from years past. It always helps me feel better. I hope it will do the same for you too.
Kim, I'm so sorry that you had to say good-bye to Maddie. My sister had to do the same thing just a couple of months ago, and we both remember having to say goodbye to our childhood dog, Gumdrop, back in our early 20s. It was a long, long time before I stopped looking for her to run across the floor to me every time I came in my parents' back door. As they say, "time heals," but it's small consolation for how you are feeling right now. (Hugs.)
A Dog’s Plea
Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for although I should lick your hand between blows, your patience and understanding will quickly teach me the things you would have me learn.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world’s sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footsteps falls upon my waiting ear.
Please take me inside when it is cold and wet, for I am a domesticated animal, no longer accustomed to bitter elements. I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.
Feed me clean food that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger.
And, my friend, when I am very old, and I no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not having any fun. Please see that my trusting life is taken gently. I shall leave this earth knowing with the last breath I draw that my fate was always safest in your hands.
Author Unknown
Still thinking of you and praying for God's comfort and presence as you remember and mourn. Love and hugs! R.
Kim I only just read your post about your beloved Maddie. I so remember the deep loss of losing both my sister and our Buddy in 2006. As my sweet sister told me "Let them cry. Hug them and hold them and let the tears flow whenever they will." Five years later I will still have to give hugs and wipe away tears from Katie (and me!) when we miss our loved ones.
I found two books very very helpful. One is for parents "When Children Grieve: For Adults to Help Children Deal with Death, Divorce, Pet Loss, Moving, and Other Losses" this first of all helped me understand grief from my own perspective, and then from a child's. Especially helping understand that children grieve very deeply for things that as adults we may not. very helpful.
the second is a short story book. its called Waterbugs and Dragonflies. I love this book, I read it a lot to Katie and her cousins, just to help them grasp that loved ones are not right next to us, but are with us still. I don't think of it so much as a kids book though its billed for younger kids. To this day when I see dragonflies I know my loved ones are here.
So very sorry for you and your family's loss.
Mary Ellen
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