3/30/2018

And I’m walking Greta and Tala and thinking about grief because I’m putting my dog to sleep today sometime between 11 and three. And I asked the vet to text a half hour before he arrives to give me a chance to run home since I’ve been doing my 15 hour workday stretches for weeks–plus I’m moving–and the order in which to triage the chaos is like looking in every direction for due north because your entire system is malfunctioning.

And it’s a cool morning, and the girls’ fur sways to our movement.

And I look to the sky and think of my dog; how she came to me while I was living a life I can’t even recognize anymore and grew with me and I with her, and how this week, I’ve been fighting this day with steaks hastily-cooked, trying to get her to eat so she doesn’t vomit up her meds. Since certainly something will work so she can end her days without chaos, with my daughters and friend Ellen and I surrounding her in the new place. Certainly we can fight this day so as to ease her out of this life enveloped in the peace akin to going from one room in her home to another.

And as I looked at the sky, I breathed in the hope she’d tell me a story about perseverance but instead she showed me something else. Instead she showed me the dawn of this day, when I woke up with my dog next to my bed (now a mattress on the ground for moving) on this her last day, and of placing my hand softly on her back to thank her for finding her way into my life so that I could wake up knowing the gift of such selflessness. My hand in the fur of her body speaking the truth that my dog was the kindness of an ear when all around others clamored to speak.

For that we lived to make our journeys a little better, it will always be so.

And the sky then said, ‘Amy, there is no grief; there is only love.’ And the mountains agreed. And I inhaled deeply for I knew it was true.

2 comments

  1. Oh no… Carmela was her name, right?
    I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this, but note your response and understand.

    Be well…

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