rk

Another post about death, this is a rough autumn. Today my Siberian Husky died, it has been coming for awhile. She was a month and two days from her fifteenth birthday. I've been preparing for this for quite awhile, but I don't think I ever actually was able to despite being convinced I had. My father gave me this dog almost fifteen years ago. She has been with me my entire adult life, a constant presence. This morning she had a violent seizure after ten minutes of this I thought she must surely be gone and that I had let go, but I now know I had some feeling or hope that she would be just fine. That hope emotionally stonewalled me while I comforted her. I couldn't wake her after it finished, she just laid still, but her breathing was steady. After a few hours I had to get up to go to the bathroom, when I returned she was gone, just like that it. It took a few minutes to sink in, I sat back down and waited for something, but I don't know what. After another minute I went to get a sheet to wrap her body in. Once I tucked in the last fold I broke down. I've never felt this sort of grief for any other death, animal or human, I don't know what that means or if it is significant. I don't think it matters. My friend is gone.