There never really was any doubt. We’re dog people. Our home was going to be open once again. It was just a matter of time. Time for grieving and a time for healing. Even with their best efforts, nobody can prepare you for love, loss, and perseverance.
I’m sharing some of our story because I know so many others who have, are, or will soon be going through the journey of saying goodbye to a companion and welcoming a new one into their lives. This is my raw truth.
Our story started 13 years ago when we brought a beagle home. Though technically adults, looking back we were still “kids.” We named her Meadow. A fitting unique name for such a unique character. Food driven, funny, a queen, and a lover of anyone who made eye contact with her.
Meadow was with us for every step of our transition to actual adulthood. College graduation. Our first “real-world” jobs. First home. My path in elected politics. Through it all – highs and lows – always waiting for us with a howl, a smile, and a happy tail.
In March of 2023, what was expected to be a visit to our longtime vet over a cough turned into a moment everyone fears. Cancer. Lymphoma. At 12 years old, our options were limited. We brought her home with the medications necessary to keep her comfortable and enjoy the rest of our time together.
We had three special final months. We’re so grateful we were given that time knowing it was limited. Some reading this never had that opportunity. Our last day at home together was extra special. We did everything she enjoyed. The long walk. A steak. Ripping the squeakers out of one last green toy duck (those were her favorite). Got the rabbits out of the garden. The pup cup. All together. The three of us as it had always been.
The days, weeks, and months that followed were so quiet without the ticking toes, jingling of her collar, and bossy howls for attention and food. But we needed time to appreciate what we had and the impact she had on us during such important moments in our lives. She was the biggest part of it all. We’ve kept nearly all of her toys, collars, and other belongings. We just hadn’t brought ourselves to let them go. The loss of our Meadow girl is still felt.
As I said, we knew eventually we’d open up or home again. We had no idea when we’d be ready or what it’d feel like. The path through grief and healing is different for everyone. Then it happened.
Turtle Mountain Animal Rescue shared photos of their new arrivals online. They’d be in town for Giving Hearts Day to meet the pups. We went to see a little girl from one of the three litters that caught Karlee’s intrigue. It was a boy that stole our attention. His demeanor compared to his brothers and sisters called to us. Then, after 20 minutes or so of us watching him, a sign, they put an orange collar on him. It was so they were identifiable from each other. Color-coded. Orange is Karlee’s favorite color.
We stood there for an hour. Seemingly unable to pull ourselves away. I’m not sure if it was reality that the moment had arrived and we weren’t sure if we were prepared. But, it was real.
We had some thinking to do with the rush of mixed emotions. Excitement for the possible next journey. Guilt of “moving on” and the flood of feelings from the hardest goodbye several months before. I had moments of concern I couldn’t match that level of love. It wouldn’t be fair for him. But, he was worth the leap.
If you’re still with me at this point in our story, I suspect it is because you’ve gone through something similar or are anticipating going through it at some point in your journey.
Sage is home. He has been here for six days. It has been 13 years since we’ve dealt with the puppy stage and its challenges. Our home is filled with a different kind of life and energy again. In fact, that is why we chose the name Sage. A symbolic way to cleanse the bad vibes we’ve brought on ourselves and to bring in the good.
The reality is, you’re not moving on. You’re continuing the story with the memories filled in with the new signs and moments that refresh them over and again. I write this in real-time as an 8-week old rescue comfortably snores at my feet. Next to him is the squeaker-less green toy duck he chose from what was Meadow’s toy box this morning and brought over to play.
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