It's been six days since I've written about our sweet little guy who was tragically killed. We're now at day 7 of his death and both the Queen and I are struggling with our emotions. Maybe it's God's plan for his creation to go through the mental anguish of losing a loved one, be it man or dog, to appreciate what we had in life. As for me, I haven't cried today but it's early. Yesterday my experience was a constant lump in my throat and walking around like a zombie in a mental fog. Around 5 pm I lost it and began sobbing uncontrollably. And so it goes.
Come 3:21 pm this afternoon it will be exactly one week since we lost our little guy. I know this time for a fact because we recently purchased a doorbell with a camera. At 3:22 it showed me carrying my buddy into the house from the front street. I cradled him in a blood stained towel. My wife looked at the video. I couldn't and never will. I don't need to. The entire scenario has been branded in my mind forever because I was there. I blame myself thinking what if I'd done this or done that. I know this is normal. Whenever Charlie and I were out front of our home and he was not on his leash I was constantly on the lookout for danger. It was like my head was on a swivel searching for a car that might be traversing down our one block long street. Last Wednesday my attention was diverted for ten lousy seconds and that was just enough time for him to be taken away.
In the past 7 days my wife and I have received over 70 messages of condolence. Two of our friends were kind enough to send us sympathy cards. This helps a great deal. A dear friend in North Carolina sent me a number of internet sites on grieving for lost pets. I'd known about this type of grieving but greatly appreciated our friend's concern. The methods of confronting death are interchangeable with those done for humans and the suggestions are based on a book written 50 years ago by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross titled: The Five States Of Death & Dying. Basically, we all go through 5 stages of grief until we get to the last one; the acceptance part and it is then we can begin to heal. I read a report three days ago that some pet owners grieve for up to a year. Good Lord, I'm praying I can move on before that time.
As Charlies' best friend I've experienced this loss in a couple of ways. At promptly 2 pm every day Charlie knew it was time for his treats. If I was somewhat slow in responding or forgot he would sidle up next to me and sit with his eyes trained directly on my person. If I was still slow in getting up he'd bark three times to let me know he was being cheated out of his fun. There have been a couple times in the past week I've absentmindedly gotten up out of my chair at 2 pm and then remembered he was gone..
There were times this past week I'd be lying on the my man cave couch and unconsciously reach down to stroke his head. I conjure up memories of his cuteness. When we walked in the woods on the trails he'd lag behind sniffing as much as possible then all of a sudden run up to my side and gaze at me. He was asking for a treat. If I held up open hands he knew I didn't have any and off we'd go.
Charlie slept in my bed at night. I've awakened a couple times this past week and reached over to stroke his forehead or to rub his ears. Reality bites doesn't it? Last night around 8 pm I thought I saw a shadow moving out of the corner of my eye thinking he was coming into the room.
I haven't mentioned Her Majesty much in my reflections. She is suffering as much as I. Last night, in bed, I asked her if she thought we would ever get another dog and she said, "Yes." But, that new friend will come to us, not us to it. We won't go to a rescue center and pick out friend. It'll come by word of mouth or some such other circumstance the same way we got Casey in 1992 and Charlie in 2019.
I've had Charlie's remains cremated. In the past I've considered how I would handle his passing. Little did I know it would come so quickly. I wanted to have him buried in a container in a cemetery. I'd thought about going into the woods where he loved to roam and explore and burying him there. Our Vet isn't in a cemetery network so the only other acceptable alternative was cremation.
I'm not the type to place his remains on a shelf with his picture in front of his container. We'll put them away somewhere. Actually, when I die I told Her Majesty to put his remains in my casket. It probably sounds silly but at this time it makes me feel better and since there is a Rainbow Bridge for our deceased friends it'll have been a good move.
Let's hope this is the last time I write on the subject of my best friend. Eventually, I'll reflect on the humorous and fun times we had together. As an example, we live in an area where deer abound. One day, a couple years ago, we came across two adult deer grazing. Since we were in the woods Charlie was off leash. I stopped and looked. Charlie looked, then barked and sprinted full bore toward the deer like he was going to take them down. I was impressed at his tenacity since he only weighed 20 lbs. I wonder what he was thinking. Is it possible the thought ran through his mind he could grab a hoof and drag it down to the ground? Lucky for those deer, though. They ran faster than he and escaped his wrath.
When my Pal first came into our lives he enjoyed playing tug o' war. He had a variety of ropes but a couple were his favorites. After a few years he tired of them but when guests came to the house, even those for the first time, he'd put a rope in his mouth and pestered these people to play with him. He was the consummate hosr.
One night awhile back I was downstairs lying on the couch and watching television. I was eating pretzels at the time. Anyway, it got to be bedtime so we went upstairs and got into bed. After five minutes he left the bed and ran downstairs. I called him but to no avail then went down to where he was. He had his snout stuck between the couch cushions picking out remnants of the pretzels I'd dropped.
Twice in his life while The Queen and I ran errands we came home to see he'd gotten into the garbage. It was strewn all around the kitchen floor. He had hidden in the living room when he heard us come into the hose. His chin was on the floor while he looked up sheepishly at us. He knew. We did nothing to him; didn't even give him a scolding. Dogs do what dogs do.
Charlie hated water and baths especially. One night The Queen said out loud, "Charlie, it's time for a bath." He immediately jumped up into my arms. When the wife came into my man cave calling his name he jumped and sprinted upstairs. I found him in my bed under the covers.
Charlie had different personalities depending on his mood or mine. We often went for car rides. He loved those. He'd be sitting in the front passenger seat then hop up and put his nose on the glass. I'd roll down the window so he could stick out his head. Then, after a few seconds, he'd jump over to my lap and want the driver window down and the routine would be repeated again and again and again. To say he was spoiled would be like saying Whoopi Goldberg is fat.
Thank you for reading. There are some of you who have experienced this trauma before and I sympathize with you. I so very much appreciate all of you who have offered your condolences.
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