Loss of a best friend
We finally lost beloved Mocha yesterday. We got him at 8 weeks old at the local shelter, and had him for 14 wonderful years.
He battled epilepsy and arthritis for a long time. When he couldn't get up Sunday, we knew it was finally time. We spent Sunday with him on an aero-bed playing with his tennis ball, feeding him ice cream, and generally just cuddling. That night I got to sleep with him on my arm as he always does, snuggled close to "mamma" - all 90 lbs of him.
We took him in yesterday morning and I cradled him the last time in my arms as he fell asleep. It wasn't a hysterical moment, but more of a gentle lulling as i stroked his nose and looked in his eyes that last time. He was happy enough right up to the very end. And with the exception of not being able to get up any more, he wasn't in pain that we could tell.
But man, once I got home the waterworks didn't stop all day. I know in my heart he is in a better place, and able to run without any pain. We knew this day was coming, but I just didn't know it would be that hard. We still have Ginger and Rusty, but it is so very quiet without Mocha. He was "the puppy" even at his age - a real clown.
No more barking every time Brian comes home from work, no more spitting a tennis ball at me to trade for food (tricks for treats), no more crying because I ate the last bite of bacon or popcorn, or trying to chime in with his yammering while I'm on a conference call on speaker phone.
I missed all of those things today, and I know there are other things I'll miss too. As the saying goes, "If loved could have saved you, you would have lived forever."