Going on Day 4 - Still Grieving

I don't remember my last processes of grief taking so long. But then they were a NUMBER of years ago. This isn't the first beloved pet I've lost. The first one, I had to go with my father to have him put down, as that pet was so very ill. At least I had the ability to say goodbye and have him hear me. This time, I don't know if Brutus heard me.

I started feeling fine the day after Brutus passed...I could laugh again, carry on with my day, even did a little (window) shopping with my youngest son and my daughter. I thought that I had things under control, until last night when a random burst of tears started flowing.

Me and Brutus

I think it had to do with the fact that, when we came home that day...Brutus wasn't at the top of the stairs, waiting with such anticipation and excitement for us to get our coats and shoes off; wagging his tail in patience until I reached halfway up the stairs where he would go down onto two legs, and start barking playfully. I'd slap the steps, then he would jump, bark at me, run away, then run back wanting me to chase him.

It's the tiny, silly things that I think I miss the most. Not just the cuddle times, like in the picture above, but the times where we would play, where he would wait patiently for me to come out of the bathroom, or he'd sit beneath my husband while he cooked anything greasy (hoping for the spatters of grease to hit the floor so he could lick them up).

It's taking some getting used to, to not take a small piece of my meal at dinner time and reach down to give it to him, or not expect him to nudge my hand as it hangs over the side of the bed in the morning. One of the more painful things is to look at his little, cloth dog house (that sits by our bedroom door) empty. I don't see his little pink nose poking out anymore, and that's what makes me cry.

I keep trying to tell myself that this is so silly to be so emotional over something like this, but like I said before, he wasn't just an animal, he was a member of this family...an important member of this family. He helped me keep my sanity when the house became an insane asylum. I have to remind myself that this is indeed a tragic loss for our family, and that to cry uncontrollably once in a while is not only ok, it's to be expected. It'd be no different than losing a 10 year old son; the minor difference being that he was covered in fur and walked on four legs, instead of two (and I don't need critics telling me that losing a human son to a dog is like comparing apples to skyscrapers as I've experienced the loss of a child as well...and I CAN compare the two painful losses as being vastly similar).

All I can do is just try to remember the happy times we had with our Brutus, and try not to turn those happy memories into sad ones; to smile when I think of them, instead of bursting into tears.


One. Day. At. A. Time. It's not going to be over and done with overnight.