Why do people say you look like your dog just died? Because he did. That and asking a woman when are you due? When she could just be fat.
My cats here keeping me company.
WHY does this one hurt so much. I talked with him all day long. I pet him and looked in his eyes and told him to leave. That dog had the BIGGEST heart I have ever known. No other pet has been like this. I never shed tears like this. Kev had to rip him away from me to take him off the hill to the vet. He was like my child and it was like my baby died. He was my baby in so many ways and he cared for me when no one else would. Poor Kev, I think my grief and despair rubbed off on him and made him to realize how much like a child he was to both of us. In the end we ended up holding each other all night long. My back hurts so bad from laying like that, it’s screaming louder then the emotional paid.
I can’t do it again. Yorkies have such a short live. That terrible person who made the dog trade with me. I’m SURE that the reason she didn’t send me his papers was because he was so old already. I believe this Yorkie lived well over 20 years. Well above and beyond their normal life expectancy of 10-15, average, 12.8 years. His heart was so big that he wouldn't leave me. I had to kill him in the end, well, the vet did. I couldn't go down. I planted flowers instead. When he came back we washed and dried him to get the stench of the last few days off of him. Wrapped him in Kev’s favorite Clan Donald shirt that he never wanted to see again and put him in the box that the vet provided. Using markers, I colored flowers and vines all over it and wrote. "Here lies and his name. A very small dog with the largest heart I have ever know." Put a large heart on the center. Then on the side I wrote. Do not Disturb just in case someone in the future thinks he’s buried treasure. Course the shirt was cotton and the cardboard, everything biodegradable. There's a stick with the back of Kev's shirt on it like a flag. That's what I want to see when I look out the window for him. I can see him from my room. It's good.
I'm so very empty. My bed is so very empty even though I have a cat and a dog here, my heart is empty.
I have laid so many to rest, NONE like this, none with a bath and a blow dry. I wanted to feel his silky ears again. All the hair was off of his body. This dog and cat here, laying on my bed, I will just bury them, no problem. But my wee Yorkie, he was my constant companion, my love, my child. I cared for him this last year, with the meds three times a day until in the end I was crushing them for him, adding liquid and forcing them down. The last days he was up to people food just to get him to eat anything. We all helped try to tempt him to eat. Until he started to diarrhea and vomit everything up. Until his legs went ridged and at times he’d stop breathing. I just couldn't allow him to die in the manner that I knew he would. Gasping, stiffening, reeling, trying to breath. That's what he was like yesterday a.m. when I called Kev home. That's what it was like over a year ago when all the meds first started. Back then he died on me so many times. I new I could call him back. His eyes glazed over, his bowls released and I screamed and called him back, so many times. This time I couldn't do that to him again. I told him to go, prayed God would take him. In the end he tried to rally. That overly large heart planted in such a tiny dog. But it was over.
Night before last I gave him his med wrapped in cheese, I held my hand under his mouth in case he dumped it back out. What did I get that time? A tooth! He had no hair except on his head, the teeth he did have were coated, encased. When he tried to walk he would fall on his face and scramble. This has been going on for the past week. I put him in a baby type sling so I could work, until the last day when I just stayed with him, held him all day and looked him in the eye. Talked to him, told him how much I loved him, that I would always love him. That I would NEVER forget him and no one will ever replace him.
No, I can't get another wee companion, he will only break my heart in 10-15 years. Anything larger then a toy and I can't care for them, so it's out of the question.
The final photo I have of him, in his sling.
Rest in peace my beloved wee little guy, I miss you.