Saturday, April 22, 2006

A Loss


The house seems empty tonight. I knew this day was coming, but it's still hard, nevertheless. I had to put my 15 year old Bedlington Terrier, Lannie down today. If you don't know about Bedlingtons, they are the very soft dogs that look like little lambs. Some people think they are poodles with a bad hair cut. I'll never forget one day when I was walking her after just being groomed, and a kid stopped me and said, "Hey....what happened to your dog?"

What a weird range of emotions. First I feel incredibly sad...and then I feel silly for feeling so sad...I mean after all, it's just a dog. There is even some guilt....like maybe I didn't take her for walks often enough...or I should have shared more of my food with her. But there is something about loving a dog. You do that baby talk kind of thing and you express love in ways you would like to be able to do with people if it weren't so scary. I saw this so much with my Dad when he fell in love with his dalmation, Edward. When I heard him express his love to his dog....I felt loved too.

One of the only times I ever saw my Dad cry involved Lannie. When Lannie was a puppy, my Mom and I headed off for one of our Saturday shopping trips, and my Dad decided to take Lannie with him to work. He always took his dogs to work, but he was not used to dealing with a terrier. When you let a terrier loose, they are off to see the world without any sense of home. His dogs always stuck by his side. So, he turned his back for a moment, and Lannie was gone. He looked around for her but couldn't find her, so he came home. When we got home from the mall, he was pacing in the driveway and crying. After a few tense hours, some nice people who found her contacted us, and we got her back. But I knew that he mostly wasn't crying out of love for Lannie, but out of love for me. That's what I think is so cool about dogs. They teach you about love in ways you least expect it.

So, I just had my first dinner in a long time where I had to rinse the dish before putting it in the dishwasher, since she wasn't here to lick it. Other things I will miss is her next to me in bed and the comfort of her scent. I'll also miss seeing her hide her head under the covers in the morning when I would turn on the light, but she was still trying to sleep. That always made me laugh. Life goes on...but it won't be the same.

By the way...after two sad posts, I'll try for a cheerier post next time. My whole life isn't sad, I just tend to feel like writing more at sad times.

2 Comments:

Blogger Sara Z. said...

Oh, I'm so sorry! She was a good girl, and you gave her a good life. It's funny - I was just at my parents' house (their dog died a few weeks ago) and made the same realization about having to rinse the dishes. No one there to sniff out and clean up the dropped foods.

5:27 PM, April 23, 2006  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

ROOM IN YOUR HEART
by: Caro Schubert-James

"Sorrow fills a barren space;
you close your eyes and see my face
and think of times I made you laugh,
the love we shared, the bond we had,
the special way I needed you -
the friendship shared by just we two.

The day's too quiet, the world seems older,
the wind blows now a little colder.
You gaze into the empty air
and look for me, but I'm not there -
I'm in heaven and I watch you,
and I see the world around you too.

...My pain and suffering came to an end,
so don't cry for me, my person, my friend.
But think of the living -
those souls with fur
(some who bark and some who purr) -
And though our bond can't be broken apart,
make room for another in your home and
your heart."


--- Caro Schubert-James ---

5:12 PM, May 09, 2006  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Who links to me?