Oh Wendy, your post. First, I'm sorry for your loss. It's taken me over an hour to be able to write this comment. I don't mean to suggest the loss of a pet is the same as the loss of a person. But after euthanizing Orion last month its all I can do to put myself together again. Every time I think I'm moving forward and making progress, I fall to pieces again. Guess unemployment has a blessing that I don't have to return to anything and deal with people, but theres a whole room in my apartment I can barely go in, because that's where I kept Orion and every time I go in there I'm reminded that he's gone. I know that it was the right time and he's not suffering anymore, and he had so many problems, but I miss his little face. And then I feel guilty that I am relieved I dont have to carry him up and down the stairs anymore.
And then the morning before he died, my sister in law, who had been his caregiver before they cast him. Off like an old pair of socks, basically eulogized him of facebook. Before he even died. When they hadn't given a single thought to him over the last six months, and all their friends commented how wonderful they were and I started screaming at the computer. I haven't spoken to them since. I'd been caring for him and taking him to all the vet appointments and spent almost three thousand dollars on vet bills and keeping him from attacking my other dog and carrying him up and down the stairs three times a day aend their friends were patting them on the back for doing such a good job.
And to care for him for the last six months and know there was nothing I could do, he would get worse and worse, and he did, and to watch this dog stumble more and more and drag his feet, and dammit he was still happy with that little face and even being on his third home he trusted me.
Its not just being sad, its being relieved and guilty and sick and so angry and wanting to go back in time and fix things but only seeing the mistakes.
And like you said with expectations of grief, I keep expecting to move on, to have a scab on the wound, and some days it's fine, but others it feels more like a knife to the gut.
(I'm sorry for writing so much, the words just kept coming out. Also, sorry about the weird typos, I'm on my ipad and it is weird sometimes.)
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branchandroot
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Date: 2011-01-26 11:05 pm (UTC)And then the morning before he died, my sister in law, who had been his caregiver before they cast him. Off like an old pair of socks, basically eulogized him of facebook. Before he even died. When they hadn't given a single thought to him over the last six months, and all their friends commented how wonderful they were and I started screaming at the computer. I haven't spoken to them since. I'd been caring for him and taking him to all the vet appointments and spent almost three thousand dollars on vet bills and keeping him from attacking my other dog and carrying him up and down the stairs three times a day aend their friends were patting them on the back for doing such a good job.
And to care for him for the last six months and know there was nothing I could do, he would get worse and worse, and he did, and to watch this dog stumble more and more and drag his feet, and dammit he was still happy with that little face and even being on his third home he trusted me.
Its not just being sad, its being relieved and guilty and sick and so angry and wanting to go back in time and fix things but only seeing the mistakes.
And like you said with expectations of grief, I keep expecting to move on, to have a scab on the wound, and some days it's fine, but others it feels more like a knife to the gut.
(I'm sorry for writing so much, the words just kept coming out. Also, sorry about the weird typos, I'm on my ipad and it is weird sometimes.)