It gets easier, if only for a moment.

Its been a week since we lost her.

It has been getting easier, slowly.  It takes one moment to put me right back where I was a week ago.  A crying mess.  This morning I was already missing her.  I knew the vet would be calling to tell me her remains were ready for pick up, but that didn't make the phone call any easier, or the sound of the receptionists voice on the other end, I know that is not how she wanted to start her Monday either. Making those heart breaking phone calls. 

We miss her almost every second of the day.  The house is too quiet now. 

Everyone keeps asking me how we are doing.  I tell a partial lie and tell them that we are okay. Which is partially true.  We are okay when we are missing her in the back of our minds and not thinking about her. Give us a few minutes of thinking of her and we aren't as okay as we were.  Anyone who thinks "they're just a dog" clearly never allowed themselves to make a connection with them.  And I'll be the first to tell you, they deserve to be truly connected and loved by their humans. 

The tree in the yard doesn't make me cry anymore, but the bunnies do.  I get choked up when I get out of the shower and she isn't laying there in the hallway waiting on me.  She isn't in the window when I come home from work.  We miss the crunching of her bean bag chair when she got comfortable in bed at night.  I miss the way she would bark and howl and spin in circles when we asked her if she wanted a teeth treat.  I miss her begging us to acknowledge that she wanted a teeth treat.  I miss snuggling in bed with her in the morning while Ethan is getting ready for work.  I miss her staring at me on the weekends because she needed to potty and I was sleeping too late.  I miss tripping over her while I'm trying to cook in the kitchen.  I miss the feel of her fur, how you could run your fingers through and hold on, the way she smells.  I miss her trying to open the door while I'm trying to use the bathroom.  I miss seeing her on my lunch. 

Friday the girls at the coffee shop asked how Zyera and Trigger were getting along--I cried the whole drive to work. I cried when I called the vet last week to find out when her ashes could be picked up.

I drive to work and I think of the drive we took that night to take her to the vet, hoping and praying that she wasn't gone, wrapped in a blanket on Ethan's lap in the backseat of my car. I drive home at night and I think of driving home that night. Without her. Crying the whole way.

I still haven't grown the courage to change the sheets in the spare bedroom because that's where we lost her, and I know if I do that, shes not here to mess them up. 

She was caught nesting in our guests bed.  Shouldn't have left the door open I guess.  She was hoping they wouldn't move her.

I still catch myself grabbing an extra treat for her when its bedtime or I leave the house.  I miss her darting out the front door to search the yard for squirrels and bunnies.  I miss telling her shes a "Bad Dog."  I miss cleaning up shredded laundry sheets and cotton from toys which have had too much play time.

Saturday morning I drove by our old apartment like I do most mornings only to see her friend Bubba in the yard running around having fun.  And that made me cry all morning.

Everyone tells me they wish they could help, take the hurt away.  And it will happen one day, but it will take time.

Losing her is different than I remember.  She was different.  I've never met a dog with her personality. I've never met a dog who stalked the UPS man in hopes of a barkbox.  We raised her.  We decided what was good for her, when to fix her, how much food she could have or couldn't have. We raised her without people food, and I almost wish we had just given her every table scrap ever. 

She was the friendliest dog I have ever known.  She would greet the meter man at the gate when he came to read our gas meter.  He would reach over the fence, scratch her head, read the meter and be on his way.  She had no stranger danger.  She protected me like her life depended on it.  We quit going to the dog park because of that.  She needed to greet every dog.  If an ungreeted dog got too close to me, she came unglued.  She tried to make friends with a Rattlesnake. 

Until we meet again.  We Love You. 💖🐶