The last couple weeks have been difficult for my family and me. April showers may eventually bring May flowers, but so far, all April has brought is a torrent of tears. Last Monday, April 4, we discovered that my beloved Dalmatian, Peyo, had developed crystals in his urinary tract, and when presented with all of the options and possible complications, I elected to have him put to sleep. It was not an easy choice, but in the end, I believe it to have been the right choice.
The first night without Peyo was the hardest--I cried and cried. I felt as though I had betrayed my best friend. I had, in fact, signed his death warrant, but it was because I loved him and couldn't bear for him to be in any more pain. The days were easier, but it was several nights before I stopped crying myself to sleep because there was no spotted dog on my side of the bed to rub my feet on or trip over in the night. Some may say that Peyo was only a dog, and I suppose that is true, but he was my dog, and he loved me as no pet had before.
I had only just dried my tears for Peyo, when I got a call from my mom on Tuesday, April 12. Something was wrong; I could hear it in her voice on the answering machine. When I picked up the phone, she told me that my Uncle Jack, her brother, had died. At first I was incredulous, as if my disbelief would restore life, but disbelief gave way to despondency as I dropped the phone and walked away from my children's anxious questions.
The days that followed were a blur of activity--funeral arrangements, family, food, but now it's over--all of it--Peyo's life, Jack's life, the funeral, the burial, and we are left with our grief, a grief that will slowly ebb with time, but never quite fade away, a grief that I will tuck away in the corner of my heart where I hold Poppa. I wish that I had been able to spend more time with Jack, and in the end, I hope that he knew that I loved him. I certainly knew that he loved me...
