It’s coming up on 9 weeks now since we had to say goodbye to poor Rosie. I always knew losing her would be hard but I was totally unprepared for just how hard it would actually be! I’ve always been a firm believer that unless you have owned a dog then it’s not possible to understand just how much they become a part of the family and that the loss of a dog can’t really be understood by someone who has never had a dog. The last two months have taught me that unless you’ve been through the death of a dog then you don’t really understand either…

I know there are people that are reading this who are grieving for the loss of loved ones. I have been through that myself and I know that the loss of someone close, either family or friend, is so much more significant than the loss of a pet. However, I still wasn’t prepared for the rawness of the grief I experienced with Rosie.

I believe a large part of that came from the fact that she didn’t die, we had to decide it was time to let her go and ultimately that decision came down to me. Hand on heart, that was the most difficult decision I’ve made in my life and the most horribly guilt ridden one also!

I’m not a great person for poetry but I did find two poems that gave me comfort at the time. One of these I shared on my post back in January and this is the second:

The Last Battle

If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this — the last battle — can’t be won.
You will be sad I understand,
But don’t let grief then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.

We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn’t want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where my needs they’ll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don’t grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing to do;
We’ve been so close — we two — these years,
Don’t let your heart hold any tears.

~~ Unknown

We all made sure that Rosie went as calmly and as settled as possible. We were all with her right to the end and I held her while she slipped away. The least I could do was make sure that I was the last thing she saw. Afterwards, we brought her home and buried her at the top of the garden so that she will be with us as long as we’re here.

It hasn’t been easy this last couple of months. There have been a lot of tears but the rawness has mellowed to a dull ache. It’s the little things that hit the hardest. Leftover dinners that now go in the bin, lifting the garage keys that always used to bring her running, the back door that’s hardly ever unlocked any more, keeping little tidbits on the side of your plate that are no longer needed. Toughest of all is going to let her out for a pee in the morning and realising that she’s no longer there…..

The biggest difference with losing a pet is that, raw though the grief may be, it’s not as all consuming as losing a person and the grief does begin to fade much quicker. Eventually the mind does begin to turn to finding a new friend to come in to the family.

I’ve been lurking in a couple of local rehoming groups for the last couple of weeks, trying to see how I’m feeling and waiting to see if one would catch my eye. I’m trying not to get too excited but we’re going to go and see a dog early next week (we have to wait a little while as he’s recovering from neutering surgery). He’s 4 years old and a Springer Spaniel so he’s like a male version of Rosie. We know nothing of his history and we may not click so we’ll just take it as it comes without too many expectations. Watch this space….