Skip to main content

Brucey

This one is tough.

This blog is such a wonderful outlet for me and so I want to talk about yesterday.


Yesterday, my Brucey left this world.


The last few days have been really tough...he took a turn pretty quickly at the end of last week and I was told Wednesday that there wasn't much time left for him. Because nothing ever happens with ideal "timing" this weekend was also one where I had committed to help a new organization do some logistical planning for the Miami Half...I had to leave him in the care of my wonderful vets, but I had to leave him.


My biggest fear was that he wouldn't make it until I got home and that he would die as he lived much of his life...alone.


Luckily, people are awesome and understood that I needed to come home early to take care of my boy. I landed in Denver at 9:30am and went straight to the vet. They brought him in to me and I told him how sorry I was and how much I loved him and how good he was. He was tired and sick and it was time. 


The vet was so sweet in explaining everything to me and it was quick and painless. His head lay in my lap and when he went under sedation he did what he always did when he was in a deep sleep....he snored. It was heartbreaking. He wasn't a noisy dog. He never barked or whined or growled, but he did snore. Some of my favorite moments of him are my napping on weekends on the couch and hearing his sweet snores from his bed. It couldn't have been more perfect...hearing his sweet snores as he peacefully left me.


I've talked a lot about the last couple years of transition in my life and often feeling so alone. The one constant in all of this has been Brucey. If there weren't people, there was ALWAYS him. His super soft head, giving me Brucey hugs when I felt like the loneliest girl around. And now he's gone.


He came into my life right after my divorce and he was with me through 2 of the biggest transitional years of my life. Up, down and everything in between. 


So many of the sweet messages I've gotten about Brucey are how I saved him and how lucky HE was. The truth of the matter is that anyone could have given him a good life. I'm the one who got lucky...he saved me. Truly. There is no way I could have made it through the last couple of years without having him around.


It isn't lost on me that I finally feel settled after 2 years and that is when he needed to go. Because I think he knew I'd be OK...finally.


Oh, but it doesn't feel like that right now. It hurts so much. Sometimes it feels so silly to be so heartbroken over such a being, but the texts and calls and messages I've gotten have shown me otherwise.


I'm in my quiet and empty apartment. Staring at his beds and wondering how in the world I got so lucky. Overthinking every step I made with him the last few weeks...wondering if I should have done things differently. Struggling with wanting to run out and find a new companion to avoid feeling so alone, but knowing that there is no way there will ever be another Bruce.


Oh, my sweet boy. My freckled faced panda. My humpy shelter dog who loved me with everything you had. 2 years was not enough and I so wish that I could have given you a lifetime of pets and kisses and love. 2 years will have to do, though, because you were mine for a reason. Missing you doesn't begin to describe this hole in my heart...


Sleep well, my Brucey.





"Before you get a dog, you can't quite imagine what living with one might be like; afterward, you can't imagine living any other way." - Caroline Knapp


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Goodbye.

 “I don’t know if I should congratulate you or console you.” - Craig “How about both?” - Me This was a conversation in our kitchen earlier this week. After a year and a half of weekly therapy, I had my last session with my therapist Tuesday. Not because I was over it or because it wasn’t working or because he retired. Nope. Because we got to a place where we could both say I’ve got the tools I need to move on. I have to say that there is no timeline for therapy and every situation is unique. I moved on from intensive therapy with my therapist because that it was worked for ME. I am certainly no expert and I have a feeling this isn’t the end of my therapy forever, but I do know that my experience with the right person allowed me to heal in ways I literally never thought possible. And it gave me the experience of a healthy “goodbye”. I was never prepared for that, so when we set an end date (not-so-coincidentally my Nanna’s birthday), it was hard to process. No one talks about

November 19th

There's apparently something about November 19th and changes in my life... 2 years ago: moving out of the ex's house 1 year ago: announcing that I was making the big move to beautiful Colorado Today: planning my next big adventure! After 2 years of major life changes and constant adjustment, I'm finally feeling like a settled human being. So, I've decided that 2018 is going to be the year I push myself physically and mentally. 2 half marathons are on the schedule along with the most exciting part: a multi day bike adventure with an assisted athlete here in Colorado in support of The Kyle Pease Foundation !!  I've learned enough about myself that I will not agree to push myself hard physically for any length of time unless there is another person who is behind the WHY. Doing this in partnership with another athlete who necessarily wouldn't be able to otherwise, is enough to get my ass off my couch and get it done! Details are still being worke

Patsy.

A friend sent this video to me and when I watched it, I was struck more by the feelings it brought up around the content than the story itself.  Christen Reighter's story is an interesting and frustrating insight into what it means to NOT want a child. I invite you to watch this. Her experience is not unique and needs to be talked about. Even if you have kids. Or want them. What struck me most was what she says during her TedTalk: "I have believed having children was an extension of womanhood, not the definition." Truth is, I've been struggling with this lately. Not the fact that I'm longing for children. I'd be fibbing if I said there is a very tiny part of me that wonders what this will feel like when I get to the end of life. HOWEVER. That feeling isn't strong enough for me to want to find out. I don't feel like having children should be thought of as a "keeping the fingers crossed" kind of situation. If you aren't sure you'l