my dog is dying. this has been going on for a while. she's been on a slow decline for a few years now.
it started with her hearing. her ability to hear started fading... shit, i don't even remember. it's been
that way for a while.
next was her sight. she started forming cataracts around a year ago, probably. she
can still make out shapes and light, but she can't really see worth a damn otherwise.
after that, her mobility. she falls over pretty often now. at some point, my mom bought some rugs to put down on the hardwood so she'd have
an easier time getting around. the problem with this though, is that her bladder control also started going.
so she's peed on a good few of them. at some point during this year though, her mind-the last thing she had left-
started going as well.
recently, she's stopped eating. no matter how hard we try, softening her food, bribing her with her favorite treats,
changing location, times, amounts, temperature even, nothing. today, she stopped drinking water. she's been sleeping
more, moving around less. well. less than she used to. barbie was never a very active dog. but now she spends
her entire day laying in bed, or getting up suddenly and wandering aimlessly, with no understanding of what she's doing
or why she's up.
all this is to say i've known for a while that she was dying. it wasn't a matter of if, but when. and yet. i can feel
that lump in my throat forming as i write this. grief is... weird for me. i don't feel like i'm. good? at grieving? i know
there's no ""right"" way to feel grief. but object impermanence and grief mix in strange ways sometimes.
i tend to forget things exist if they aren't within arms reach and my line of sight. this causes a lot of problems.
sometimes it's a boon. i don't spend as much of my time hurting over losses. but when i remember, they hit me hard.
i'm not ready for my dog to die.
we've had her for more than 15 years now. despite all the times i've had to clean up after her, all the times she's tried
to eat something she shouldn't, all the times she's barked over something dumb, all the times she's tried to get out of baths,
i will always miss her. sometimes i just have to make up for lost grieving time, i suppose.
it's odd, watching how others grieve. my sister hasn't been home as much-she's in college and has classes- so it hasn't been at
the forefront of her mind as much. she hasn't done a lot of the pre-grieving that i did. she's gotten really teary over barbie
lately. i don't blame her. but it's odd, seeing someone at the opposite of the emotional response scale as you in response to the
same event. and this isn't to say that i haven't also cried a lot about our dog, but right now i feel... numb, i suppose.
i bought an urn necklace today. i don't know how long it'll be before barbie, well... you know. i don't think i wanna say it very much.
makes it feel more Real. the part of my brain that listens to reason, that thinks and solves problems, is aware that she's dying. but the
part of my brain that's still a scared animal doesn't want to acknowledge it. which makes me writing this odd, in a way i guess. but i need
an outlet. talking about it out loud will make me sadder than writing it, and this is a hell of a lot to dump on my friends who have all lost
pets of their own already. which is what pushed me to finally finish making a damn blog section.
the urn necklace arrives tomorrow. it's a plain black necklace shaped like a dog tag. simple and minimalistic. i think i like it better that
way. getting something ornate feels... wrong. hopefully, barbie can hang on til it's arrived. it feels selfish to ask her that, when i was just
saying to my dad today that i wish her cognitive decline weren't so drawn out, but i think i'd like to avoid having to put her ashes in the necklace
myself if i can. dad said the folks running the cremation business are real nice.
i'll miss you, barbie.