Day 8: Grieving for My Soulmate with Paws
By Cal Orey
Day eight. Today marks one week since my canine soulmate has been gone--to the other side. I have been here, done the grieving game with many dogs and cats but it never gets easier. Here's how my hellish week went...
Day 1: No eating. No bathing. Crying, crying, crying. On Saturday the day after the event, I got out of bed and grabbed dozens of pictures from more than a decade...of me and my dog named Simon. I should scan all the pics but my energy level is on a 1. A call to the Crisis Center--the counselors say I'm a 5 on a 1-10 scale of doing superb while dealing with loss. I am still here...
Day 2: Forced myself to eat a sandwich. More tears. Another ring to the Center with people who have become my lifeline. They listen. Some dish advice, others not so much. I work the psychic networks and read people...It's too easy, get reviews of being spot on. Gee, I did diagnose Simon minutes before my vet did. We came up with the same disorder. Still in shock. Dementia? My brilliant Brittany. Dog gone.
Day 3: I go through the hours that feel like eternity of feeding my cat and dog...Both know something is off in the household. Minus one dog and one unbalanced alpha leader. Our home has been hit by an earthquake of sorts: The diagnosis of dementia is one shaker to process, not to ignore the death of my canine with mush for his brain. The days begin to overlap and I don't care what time it is or what day it is. It's all the same. My dog is gone.
Fantasies of running away or to like Cheryl, the character in the film Wild visit me. I watch the movie (each night) and look at my graduate school thesis novella "Blood Tie"... Ironically, it's the same story. My mother died. I took her box of cremated bones and hitched and hiked from Northern California through the Mojave Desert. Mission: To deliver daughter to mother--my grandma. It is a story of loss and trying to find myself and inner peace while I stumble through the stages of grief and acceptance.
Hello Friday: One week and I'm still here. Yesterday I forced myself to swim. But at 4:00 PM it hit me. I forgot to bathe and brush my teeth. I go through the motions of daily life but my heart and soul are in another place. How I yearn for my soulmate with paws to touch me.
Day eight. Today marks one week since my canine soulmate has been gone--to the other side. I have been here, done the grieving game with many dogs and cats but it never gets easier. Here's how my hellish week went...
Day 1: No eating. No bathing. Crying, crying, crying. On Saturday the day after the event, I got out of bed and grabbed dozens of pictures from more than a decade...of me and my dog named Simon. I should scan all the pics but my energy level is on a 1. A call to the Crisis Center--the counselors say I'm a 5 on a 1-10 scale of doing superb while dealing with loss. I am still here...Day 2: Forced myself to eat a sandwich. More tears. Another ring to the Center with people who have become my lifeline. They listen. Some dish advice, others not so much. I work the psychic networks and read people...It's too easy, get reviews of being spot on. Gee, I did diagnose Simon minutes before my vet did. We came up with the same disorder. Still in shock. Dementia? My brilliant Brittany. Dog gone.
Day 3: I go through the hours that feel like eternity of feeding my cat and dog...Both know something is off in the household. Minus one dog and one unbalanced alpha leader. Our home has been hit by an earthquake of sorts: The diagnosis of dementia is one shaker to process, not to ignore the death of my canine with mush for his brain. The days begin to overlap and I don't care what time it is or what day it is. It's all the same. My dog is gone.
Fantasies of running away or to like Cheryl, the character in the film Wild visit me. I watch the movie (each night) and look at my graduate school thesis novella "Blood Tie"... Ironically, it's the same story. My mother died. I took her box of cremated bones and hitched and hiked from Northern California through the Mojave Desert. Mission: To deliver daughter to mother--my grandma. It is a story of loss and trying to find myself and inner peace while I stumble through the stages of grief and acceptance.Hello Friday: One week and I'm still here. Yesterday I forced myself to swim. But at 4:00 PM it hit me. I forgot to bathe and brush my teeth. I go through the motions of daily life but my heart and soul are in another place. How I yearn for my soulmate with paws to touch me.
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