May I even suggest that losing a dog is like losing a limb.
No, some might say, that would devalue the experience of those who have actually lost a limb.
And I would say that might devalue our experience of actually losing a dog.
What both victims of loss have in common, I’m sure, is the wish that the loss could be undone.
Just wanted to reassure you we are still here. Futilely wishing we could unring a bell.
I suppose that for so many people for whom a dog is merely a furry little head to pat once or twice a day, but otherwise to be left in the backyard on a leash for hours on end, or inside some cage much of the day, freed only briefly when it suits its Master’s needs, then excessive emoting over the loss of a dog must seem…I don’t know, pathological.
If you think that then fine, please recommend us a treatment. I would try it. Because what we’re feeling is no good.
I don’t mean to devalue other peoples’ experiences with their dogs or their personal feelings of loss.
I only know how much time and devotion we — myself, yes, but especially Happy Wife via Harry — invested in our dogs. Was it extraordinary? Yes, I’m pretty sure it was.
We’re not seeking anyone’s praise or merit badge — being our dogs companions the past 12+ years was its own reward.
I only mention it to emphasize just how much of our time we’ve spent in the company of dogs. Hell, I once estimated conservatively that I walked/biked over 6000 miles with Rufus. A great deal of that was with Rufus and Lucy, and then more with just Lucy after Rufus died, and then a little more with just Harry.
In all that time they become part of you. Kind of like a leg, or an arm, an inseparable part of who you are.