Tuesday, November 29, 2011
But last week she started getting sick, bladder infection we thought. So we gave her medicine, it didn't help, and she just got worse and worse. By Thursday, she couldn't pee at all, and she literally spent all night outside trying to pee and throwing up. It was pitiful. And that night, I just knew it was over. I knew when I took her to the vet in the morning, she would be gone. The worst part of it all was Adam was out-of-town, so I had to be the one (although we talked about it, and he even said goodbye to her over the phone, she was so excited to hear her daddy's voice) to make the call. And I was the one in the room with her, holding her, when she drifted off.
During the whole process, I stayed upbeat with her because I didn't want her to pick up on my sadness and be upset. But after she was gone, I couldn't believe I could cry so much or so hard. I couldn't believe Adam could cry so much or so hard.
Although there aren't that many tears left that I can cry, there are few moments when her absence isn't noticed. There is no one to wake me up way too early in the morning because she wants to go on a walk (something that used to annoy me, but now I miss desperately), there is no one to feed, no one to give belly rubs to, no one to laugh at because of the way she scratches her back, or talk to in annoying baby voices. Sometimes Adam and my's mind will trick us for a split second, and we will look up to see what she is doing only to be faced with the reality that she is gone.
She was the sweetest, gentlest, kindest dog, and anyone who ever got the pleasure of meeting her couldn't help but fall head over heels in love with her.
So rest in peace our Sarah Lee. You were our baby, our precious goldie, and you will be forever missed.