"What do you Love Most about Your Spouse?"
That was the question on the website. I smiled thinking of her. I've smiled when thinking about her since the day we met. 😊
It is due to the way we connect. (Amazingly well).
The sound of her voice.
Her laughter. - I really do love that...
Her compassion for people and animals.
Her fashion sense - a good dresser, and pretty woman to boot!
What I love most honey is all the things you are.
Death of someone we have known is sad and unfortunate. We feel for that family experiencing grief. It gets real when it is someone close to us, like a member of the family. Often that member is of another species (our pet). Although as I get older, less so.
When I think about all the animals we've had in our home (as an adult) it adds up quick. My first was a bull terrier at the young age of 19. Since then, something like 10 other dogs have been under my roof, often two at a time. A pet is a lifelong relationship. Theirs, not yours. When the end of their life comes, it's on YOU.
You have probably figured out where this is going... yep, a four footed member of our household has stepped on a rainbow.
He had been sick with a tumor for over a year, and the tumor (in his neck) crushed his esophagus making it impossible to eat or drink. His mind and his heart were strong all the way to the end.
I too have an esophagus issue, but not the scope of dog (Jack White). I can mostly eat (carefully) and rarely choke. So I identified with his issues the whole past year. I also identified with his tendency to obey a command - if he agreed with it. The past year was spent wondering when it had gone on long enough to be a mercy ending his life for him.
Months ago it seemed his quality of life had diminished to the point that the 'last ride' was upon us. But like the Monty Python scene when I was about to put him in the car he perked up, tail wagging, all enthusiastic. THAT wasn't going to work.
Even on the morning we did go, he was calm, low energy, jumped down from my arms to smell the smells. I thought "here we go again". But we got through it with no more bursts of energy. Just as the doctor was coming at him with his shot, Jack began choking (as he has been doing every 5 minutes for months). Odd how that was reassuring to me that we were at the right place at the right time.
All life-long relationships end in death (or they wouldn't be life-long). It's sad, but it's a poetic sadness. Like the great truth that it is.
