Our Hearts were Not Ready to Live Without You

It has been a week and 4 days since my fur baby, Chewy, crossed the rainbow bridge. We think of him every day. We miss him greeting us excitedly when we arrive home, following us around the house, whining because his water bowl is empty or because he wants us to join him in a nap. I miss him tapping me with his paw to get me to put down my laptop, iPad, or phone because he wants to cuddle on my lap. We miss his company in every nook and corner of this house. It feels so empty without him.

Though I know he is no longer suffering, and I have such loving memories with him, my sorrow is still deep. It was 10 years! He was there to help me in my deepest grieving moments after my son died. He was also with us when I went through the empty nest syndrome once my children moved out.

"You still have your memories with him," they say. Though I prefer having Chewy with me, I do have fond memories with him.

My fondest memory is when I finally had the chance to wind down for the day. I would sit on our family room sofa and prop my feet up. Chewy would grab a bone, jump on the sofa and tap my leg with his paw because he wanted to lay on my lap and gnaw on his bone. Though I always gave him permission by tapping twice on my leg, he would not do it unless I placed the blanket over my legs. Therefore, he would continue tapping my leg until I grabbed the blanket. Once I grabbed the blanket, his curly tail wiggled with excitement, and as soon as I placed it on my lap, Chewy would accommodate himself. Often times he'd fall asleep on my lap. I loved those moments and miss them so much.

I knew Chewy was sick and that he would soon leave the earth plane, though I didn’t expect it to be that day. He gave us no signs, other than gasping for air, which I thought oxygen would help him. I still remember that night my son holding him while we dressed to take him to the 24-hour Veterinary Emergency Clinic. I walked out towards him, and when he saw me; he became so happy. My son placed him on the floor and Chewy ran towards me with his tail wagging and stood up with his paws against my legs — his way of letting us know to pick him up. In my mind, it was not a sign of a dying dog.

Driving to the clinic, he licked my arm twice. Some people would cringe at having a dog lick them. For me, those were his last kisses. Though I didn’t think of it that way. My heart did not want to accept he would not be returning home with us. I knew he was weak, but I was not expecting to walk out of the clinic with just his collar. My heart was not ready for him to leave.

Yesterday, we received a beautiful gift from our daughter. It’s a portrait of Chewy by West & Willow. Our daughter submitted a photo and West & Willow did a custom illustrated pet portrait. They sure captured the essence of Chewy and the expression in his eyes. We love it. The photo I took does not portray it well. I had a hard time getting a snapshot without shadows. This was the best I could do.

And today, we received a text message from the Veterinary Emergency Clinic letting us know his ashes were ready to be picked up. I did not expect to do this again. Chewie’s death has brought back the emotions and grief we experienced when our son died.

Grief is no joke, and it is not to be taken lightly. I know that our Chewy is now at peace with our loving son. Richie did not get to meet Chewy, though I never doubted it was a gift sent from him and the Infinite Spirit to help us cope with grief. We have two angels in heaven and a lot of wonderful memories to relive. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.

RIP my boys. We love you both. ❤