Heart Break

Brene Brown, one of my favorite thinkers/writers, has a new book of words that describe feelings.  She says if you have ever had a dog and it dies, you know the word heartbreak. 

Smoke started getting ill two weeks ago.  First, we thought it was kennel cough but the antibiotics weren't working.  He kind of got better, and then got worse.  This weekend, his white count escalated significantly - despite the antibiotics.  Spots were found on his liver, a tumor was pushing on his gall bladder, and a lymph node on his neck continued to swell. 

The doc, a sweet young gal from somewhere south given her accent, cried saying she wished she could have done something for him.  We all cried.  Mike, me, the doctor, her assistant.  Smoke stands, getting our last love and scratches.  He already has a port from all the care they have been giving.  He goes quietly, laying down, just like he would at home.  A quiet, peaceful death surrounded by loving souls.  

Hearts break for our Smoke Dog.  The most expensive dog we have ever owned thanks to all this vet time trying to get him better.  Oh well.  

Mike digs a deep hole in Freedom.  Where the new greenhouse will go.  Sad day.  Sad sad day. 

Here he is with his buddies, Rooster and Ruby, saying hello to Goldie.  The Hanger Cat. 

Heart break.  When you know that friend - the one who gives you unconditional love, the one who looks up at your eyes with happiness and love, full of expectation of what the day may bring - that friend is gone from our life. 

His collar will join Rusty's, Lucy's, Sally's, and Butch's, hanging to remind us of all those furry friends we have had the joy of spending our lives with. 

And those who are left, Ruby and Rooster, are held close with love.  They fill our hearts and help the sadness ease.