The final retrieve

Friday we sent our Mudpuppy to live with God in heaven, she made her final retrieve and left us for a more peaceful life.

It's now Tuesday and I didn't think I would still hurt so much. I miss her terribly. Achingly, longingly wanting to just see her brown eyes and touch her soft ears one more time.

Rationally I know it's for the best. That there will be no more stress in our house worrying about when the next time the ugly seizure monster would rear it's head. No more concern about how she was feeling or if recovery would be full and complete. No more sleeping with one ear open for the yelp to indicate that a seizure was imminent. No more fear that one of the seizures might take her before we had a chance to say good bye.

In a logical sense it was the best we could have hoped for. She made a pretty good recovery from the last seizure and seemed back to her old happy self. We had a chance to prepare and say good bye. One of us could be there to hold her while she slipped away. Death was peaceful and calm surrounded by those she loved and who loved her, not a sudden departure due to the ravages of a seizure.

But on the emotional side, it's not fair. Our puppy dog taken from us too soon. She still had nearly half a life to live, so many more retrieves to make, so many more trials to run, so many more walks, scratches, kisses, naps etc.. .that she and we missed out on.

Every time we look around or do something it reminds us of her. Leaving the house, coming home, meal times, morning and night time, all empty somehow because she's no longer there.

Some people have a dog/cat/bird for companionship or to complete their household. It just fits in, but for many it is just a cat, dog or whatever. They don't understand the commitment to training, the scheduling of training days and trials. The bond built while in the field or at the marsh waiting for waterfowl on a cold winter's day. In many senses she was a working dog,  not quite in the same way a police dog or guide dog works but still working. Our social life was largely based on being with dog people or training/hunting partners, and that world has been shattered.

I said to Big C over the weekend that I wished we'd been able to get another dog before our Mudpuppy had to go. It would have lessened the pain, kept the routine similar and the house wouldn't have seemed so empty. But it was not to be, we figured we had another year or two before we had to even consider putting her into semi-retirement. 

Funny how life changes things for you isn't it? I just miss her so, so much. Miss K I think gets it. She knows that our dog is not going to come home any more. In many ways she seems oblivious, until all of a sudden she says how much she misses her being there. Adding more heartbreak to an already broken heart.

You try to stay strong and remember all the things that she did to make you happy, but those memories are so bittersweet because you know you will never do any of them again.

Sure there will be other dogs, I can't see us going for too long without one in the house, but it will never be the same. She was our first and for that a uniqueness that no other dog will ever know. A standard all others will be compared to.

Oh, puppy dog, I miss you so much. 

Your snoring, your big sighs when things weren't going the way you thought they should, all of them gone. 

I miss your nudges at the side of the bed when you wanted out, or thought it was time for breakfast or even just to say hello. 

I miss your waggy tail, your exuberance when we'd come home, even if we'd only been gone an hour. 

I miss your need or want to be a 75lb lap dog whenever I would sit on the floor. 

I miss seeing you on your pillow, stretched out by the fire, warming your butt. 

I realize we may never have another dog that doesn't bark, you'd try it out now and again just to make sure you could. 

I miss your muddy footprints, wet belly, hair everywhere. 

I miss your drool on the floor when we were cutting up cheese and you thought you needed some.

I miss your final trick of figuring out how to get out of your kennel during the day when we were at work 

I miss you every waking moment, but I know it all is for the best.

To all those with fur friends out there, give them an extra hug today for me. You wonder why you keep signing on for the heartbreak that follows their too short lives, but they give back so much more than you could ever give them, it makes the choice obvious

Love you Mudpuppy…till we meet again