Good Grief

I’m healing. I am.

But every once in awhile, I read something, or watch something, or just notice something around the house that reminds me of my old dog, and I burst into tears. 

Like this Miley Cyrus story. She and Liam went out to breakfast to celebrate her dog’s life on his birthday. Granted, this is not the first birthday since his passing. It reminds me of the Highlander tradition of lighting a candle on Heather’s birthday.

My dog’s birthday was January 30. We remembered him by trying not to freeze to death in the cold and snow. New pup’s birthday is January 11, so we celebrated his birthday, too. We don’t even celebrate our own birthdays, but we get the dog a special toy and give him tons of treats on his day.

Last month, Lemur affixed the nameplate to the urn of ashes for the old dog. The urn is a little cherrywood box. It’s smaller than the two boxes for our cats, which is so strange to me. The cat boxes must be fairly empty, while his must be full. He outweighed them by thirty pounds.

Lemur put his heart into the nameplate, making sure it was even and level. Watching him made me cry. The first time I saw the box on its shelf with our dog’s name emblazoned on the front, I cried again. 

I am healing, but it’s slow. The ache in my heart will never be completely gone. He was my baby. I know, the cats were supposed to be my kids, but they’re cats. It’s not the same. Nothing will ever be the same without him.

New dog is a sweetheart. I love him so much. Part of me feels guilty for getting him so soon because I’m still sad. It seems unfair to him, but I’m grateful he’s here. Without him, I’d be a mess. I have grief, but it’s good grief. I can recover from this. I still have love to give, and we rescued a wonderful pup.