Pacco

Sorry ossobuco. I am sad for you too.

Oh, osso.

I mourn with you, osso.

me too...

Tears here too, but what a lovely story of friendship the two of you shared and all stories must end. Peace and hugs.

It hurts. It's supposed to. It's okay to hurt.

((( osso )))

(((Osso)))

In one of his novels, "Immortality" I think, Milan Kundera wonders why we are so attached to our pets. He answers: Only Adam & Eve were kicked out of Eden, no animals. Our pets are our guides back to paradise. Well, I'm an atheist, but it's as good an explanation as any.

Rest in peace, Pacco.

I saw this pop up on the list yesterday and knew, but couldn't come in. I spent last evening thinking about the pets in my life. Booker, Lady, Monica, Ginny, Beethoven, ... No, it doesn't get easier. Whether purchased as purebred or rescued from a drainage ditch and hidden in my dorm room from authorities, they all hold a spot in my heart.

And, Pacco will remain in yours. He knew that.

Osso--

I'm crying for Pacco and for the inevitable end of all quick, bright things.

Hold your dominion--alone for now.

For the love of Pacco
IF IT SHOULD BE

If it should be that I grow weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then you must do what must be done,
For this last battle cannot be won.

You will be sad, I understand.
Don't let your grief then stay your hand.
For this day, more than all the rest,
Your love for me must stand the test.

We've had so many happy years.
What is to come can hold no fears.
You'd not want me to suffer so;
The time has come -- please let me go.

Take me where my need they'll tend,
And please stay with me till the end.
Hold me firm and speak to me,
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time that you will see
The kindness that you did for me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I've been saved.

Please do not grieve -- it must be you
Who had this painful thing to do.
We've been so close, we two, these years;
Don't let your heart hold back its tears.

Aw, ****. I'm so sorry, honey. I'm sitting at work crying. I hope no one comes in my office.

Good morning, all. I just reread this...
Have to add I meant 'cannula', not catheter.

Thank you again for your thoughts.
Love you all.

How did you sleep, Osso?

Oy.




Well. It's gone from being about him, how to let him go from his struggles at the right time, with my sorrow about it all... my treasuring last times to do this or that together.. and knowing he didn't know..




to purely about me and how terribly I miss him.

Diane had to cross town for an errand anyway today, and called to find out if I would go with them to lunch. I said yes though I don't feel like eating. It worked out, got me away from whole body desolation for a bit.

I know this all passes. In a way I don't want it to go away. Mourning is something to feel.

It's your show Osso. Hmm, does that sound weird? I have told you before, I think you needn't question why you are doing/thinking/feeling certain things - just let them happen (so long as you're not hurting yourself - ie: not eating, for example). I understand the desire to question, though. And I think it may help you sort through things..... eh. We all grieve our own way. I remember I hardly got any sleep just before and after Boo's demise.

I actually don't question now - it did become apparent to me that it was time in the last week. (I called for the appointment last Thursday). But while I felt it was time, it all came so damned fast. (What do you mean I won't comb his coat again? talking to myself as I was combing him yesterday, and so on.)

Yeah, going through all the last times was hard.

especially when you can not physically feel pacco anymore.

I remember a dream I had after our German shepard was put down.
She was 13.

Her hips got so bad she could no longer stand, and the swelling was putting pressure on her intestines. Eating and drinking were a chore for her.

I was sitting in the ( in my dream) back of my moms home in Rio Rancho.
I had my feet out and toes in her small patch of grass, and Princess came around the corner. She was young. About 5 years old. Spry, happy, and wagging her tail so hard she couldnt walk.. as she did in life.

She wiggled her way between my knees and put her head on my leg and just looked at me.

Ears laid back, eyes pushing so far up to look at me, they must have hurt her skull.

I remember looking at her and remembering how 'ugly' she had gotten when she was sick.
She couldnt wag her tail, her eyes were grey ..


And so I reached down and scratched her favorite spots.

I could feel her sharp short hair on my fingers.
I could feel the sand under my nails.
Her breath was hot on my cheek.

I could have sworn she was right there.

And all I could say to her in this dream was a rather corny line " You are a good dog. No matter what. You are a good dog. No matter what"


I could still smell her when I woke up.

I was no where near as close to her as you are Pacco.
But , I do wish you can have vivid visits from him like I did from her.
They soothe. No matter what.

Yes, I would like the dreams.

Dreams came for me well after she was gone. I had one a night or two ago.