This is my favorite photo of Riley and Scout. I have a framed version of it that is now sitting on the piano, along with Riley’s collar and some locks of his hair.
Thank you. Your loving comments on yesterday’s post were a great comfort to me. Some of you sent private emails. Some of you took the time to send poems and writings about the loss of pets. Brenda wrote a beautiful post. I will not ever be able to tell you how much all of you mean to me. I will read your loving, compassionate words over and over and they will help me during this time of loss. My dear neighbor, who lost both of her dogs last year, brought over homemade chocolate chip cookies. I am blessed.
My heart is breaking, I can’t stop crying, I feel empty inside. I can hardly bear to look at the rug where Riley was stationed so much of the time during the last several months. I can’t conceive that he’s gone and I want him back.
Right after I arrived home from Hartford a few months ago, this cottage became a hospice for Riley. And since then, I have devoted all of my time to taking care of him, moving us all to the living room where we could be together and where I could quickly respond to his needs. I don’t want any pats on the back for that. I simply did what I had to do and would do all over again for my boy. But because of that, I don’t know what to do with myself now. I don’t know where to turn. I sit here, enveloped in grief, knowing I should find something to do, but I’m unable to move. I just want to take care of Riley again. I want to stroke his head and tell him what a wonderful boy he is and tell him that we love him forever.
I know that our pets are often spoken of in these words: they are like our children. But you see, my dogs are my children. There’s no “like” in my description of them. I never had biological children. My dogs have always been and will always be my children. So I mourn the passing of my baby, my child. Who will take care of him? No one knows him like I do. I’m his mom. I’m the only one who can take care of him. These are the words I cry out to Don as we sit on the sofa and grieve for our boy.
I never got over losing our dog, Winston. I will never get over losing Riley.
When Winston suddenly died at the young age of eight, I went into a mild depression. Scout kept me going because I had to make sure she was loved and cared for. Now she has outlived another sibling and, at the age of 13, she’ll keep me going again. Because caring for Riley took so much of my time and energy, she didn’t always get the attention she deserved. I plan on making it up to her.
Bear with me as I move through this period of mourning. Blogging will help, I know. But right now, I can’t get excited about anything.
I want to start our “A Favorite Thing” party, but I think I’ll wait one more week, if that’s alright with all of you. It will be officially on Saturdays, but the post will be up on Friday evening, giving you some extra time to post if Saturday is inconvenient. I also have to attend to the final details of my move to WordPress. I’m excited about the new look of the blog and I think you’ll like it. Don’t worry, it will be the same old MHC, just in a new home. But because of that move and a book review I have scheduled for next week, we’ll delay the party a week. That means it will officially start on Saturday, September 1st.
I may not post every day. But I’ll be here.
Thank you again. Say a prayer for my Riley.