Good men don't die falling, they die rising...
The title for this entry is something I thought of when listening to people speak at Meg's father's funeral service. I can't sleep tonight, more so than is usual for me, as has been the case over the last two weeks because of a lingering fear in my heart. This fear came true tonight; tonight Bailey closed her eyes for the last time, and I buried my dog in the backyard next to where Casey is buried.
While I never really fully understood Bailey's cancer, I've spent the last two months watching the growth in her chest grow larger and larger, and her confidtion worsen with each passing day. In the last two weeks she'd been limping, and become so lethargic to the point where I couldn't bear to see her in that unnatural state. Bailey was always such an energetic dog, and it killed me to see her like that. Last night, she came up to my room around 1 AM, like she always did every night. When everyone else would go to sleep, she'd come upstairs and lay next to my chair while I did work. Then around 3 AM she headed downstairs to go to sleep in my parents bedroom. This morning was the first time my parents had heard her yelp and whine during this whole ordeal. She tossed and turned for hours, unable to find a comfortable position because of the sheer size of the tumor. For the rest of the day she seemd to barely hold on to her energy, and lay about at times barely moving an inch.
We had Doc Borzio, one of my former Assistant Scoutmasters and close friend of my uncle, put Bailey to sleep in our home, on her bed that was in the kitchen. It was better that it was done here in her home than at an animal hospital. My father and I buried Bailey shortly afterwards.
I'm sitting here in my room, and she's not up here with me. The isolation that I'm feeling right now is so much more than I ever imagined it would be like. I've seen this day coming for weeks now, but it hurts so much more. It may sound silly, but just having her laying there next to me always made me feel better. If I moved to stand up she'd look up at me, and if I went downstairs she'd follow. I didn't even have to call her to come down with me, she was my shadow whenever I was in this house, and she made me feel safe and cared for. I had a dog who cared for me more than I think I even knew, and it feels like I've just lost one of my dearest friends. I think I have, and I don't know how I will handle this silence, and this loneliness.
Tonight I buried my dog, because I loved her so much and couldn't say goodbye without doing it myself.
While I never really fully understood Bailey's cancer, I've spent the last two months watching the growth in her chest grow larger and larger, and her confidtion worsen with each passing day. In the last two weeks she'd been limping, and become so lethargic to the point where I couldn't bear to see her in that unnatural state. Bailey was always such an energetic dog, and it killed me to see her like that. Last night, she came up to my room around 1 AM, like she always did every night. When everyone else would go to sleep, she'd come upstairs and lay next to my chair while I did work. Then around 3 AM she headed downstairs to go to sleep in my parents bedroom. This morning was the first time my parents had heard her yelp and whine during this whole ordeal. She tossed and turned for hours, unable to find a comfortable position because of the sheer size of the tumor. For the rest of the day she seemd to barely hold on to her energy, and lay about at times barely moving an inch.
We had Doc Borzio, one of my former Assistant Scoutmasters and close friend of my uncle, put Bailey to sleep in our home, on her bed that was in the kitchen. It was better that it was done here in her home than at an animal hospital. My father and I buried Bailey shortly afterwards.
I'm sitting here in my room, and she's not up here with me. The isolation that I'm feeling right now is so much more than I ever imagined it would be like. I've seen this day coming for weeks now, but it hurts so much more. It may sound silly, but just having her laying there next to me always made me feel better. If I moved to stand up she'd look up at me, and if I went downstairs she'd follow. I didn't even have to call her to come down with me, she was my shadow whenever I was in this house, and she made me feel safe and cared for. I had a dog who cared for me more than I think I even knew, and it feels like I've just lost one of my dearest friends. I think I have, and I don't know how I will handle this silence, and this loneliness.
Tonight I buried my dog, because I loved her so much and couldn't say goodbye without doing it myself.