Sunday Post #18 – Saying Goodbye is Hard

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The Sunday Post is a weekly meme hosted by Kimberly over on the Caffeinated Reviewer.

The first week of October really sucked in my book. Monday night (October 1), our dog AJ woke us up somewhere in the night. He couldn’t get comfortable and at times, seemed to have a hard time breathing. His restlessness seemed to go on forever. It was then we realized…it was time. Family was called, and between Tuesday and Wednesday everyone stopped by to have one last go with AJ. We had one last bonfire with him, one last night of pizza, and we splurged and got Hungry Howie’s so he could enjoy some flavored crust instead of plain. Then Wednesday evening, at home – because he really hates when he goes to the vet, the deed was done. We said goodbye to our four-legged son.

We miss him terribly, but I think we’ve been grieving for him for a while now. He had an oral tumor we took him in for at the end of August, and we instead found out this was only one of five cancers currently in his body. We suspect the difficulty he was having breathing was due to the lung cancer, and not to be disgusting or anything, but the piles he’d leave us in the yard were getting smaller and smaller, possibly due to the intestinal and anal gland cancer. And the dog that absolutely loved his food, and got me up every morning just to eat, stopped coming to get me. He would literally inhale his food, I kid you not. We tried the tennis ball trick, where you put a tennis ball in the food dish and the dog will eat around it. Nope, he took the tennis ball out because it was in the way of the food.

I miss his snuggles, not that he really let you snuggle with him. But I’d lay down almost next to him. Every now and then he’d let me lay on him. I miss his wagging tail, being greeted by him when getting home from work. Miss sitting outside with him, or on the couch. I actually miss sitting down to read and have him instead decide my lap was exactly where he wanted to be. Yes we allowed the eighty-something pound dog to sit on our laps. Most of all, I’ll miss his playfulness. Even at the age of 13, he still acted like a puppy at times.

Now I hope he is reunited, somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge, playing and taking sticks from his mother. (We said good-bye to her almost exactly 2 years ago. She was a couple months shy of 16.) Goodnight AJ, wherever you are. May you romp free, swim in whatever water you want, and have all the food you could ever want. We love you, and miss you.