I wanted to send you a note of sympathy because like you, I just lost my Boo. Your editorial couldn't have come at a more perfect time.
Her name was actually Lexi but like most pets she had several nicknames, the one I used most often being "Boo." We got Lexi right after we moved into our first house as a 10-week-old puppy that quickly became our center and heart. We still laugh and say that before we got her we used to make fun of people like us but as the years passed and we didn't have any children she filled our days with laughter and joy. Also at the time we got her I no longer had any horses after having them for the previous 20 years so you can imagine the shoes she filled!
I won't go into the details but during a particularly dark time for our family she was literally all I had at times and got me through many days and nights. This includes moving three times in two years and to a state over 900 miles from home. Since then I've been fortunate enough to be able to have horses again, but Lexi's sweet face was still the one of the first things I saw in the morning and the last thing I saw at night. Everyone who met and got to know Lex loved her furry, happy face and the tail that never quit wagging. Or as we always said, she wagged with her entire body!
September 26 of this year (2007), at a little over 11 years old, she was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of lymphoma, and we made the tough decision not to put her through chemo, choosing instead to keep her as comfortable and happy as possible with steroids and a special diet for the remainder of her days. And was she ever happy! She played hard and enjoyed life right up to the last day, and was even gracious enough to let me know the exact time when I needed to let her go, on November 2. It was both the longest and shortest 37 days that I've ever experienced.
The first days without her were almost unbearable, and I cannot remember crying as hard or as much as I did that weekend. Saturday morning after I picked up her bowl and then managed to step on one of her squeaky toys, I found myself sitting by her toy basket unable to move or stop crying. Our house seemed incredibly empty, and it still amazes me that a dog weighing only 26 pounds could take up so much room! I've also picked up her tennis balls from our yard and put most of her things away, but as I got out our Christmas rug this past weekend, I found some Lexi hairs on it. Of course, that meant more tears, but also a profound sense of peace and love that reminds me that she will always be with me. Even as a hairball.
My husband and I have slowly started the process of finding another dog because we're dog people, and let's face it, dog people need dogs. Although I've always loved the time I spend with my horses, now when I get to spend even the briefest moments with my two it takes on an incredibly special quality as they are all I have (for now at least) as what we refer to as "fur therapy." (I think my 3-year-old really would come in the house if we let him, and I have to keep assuring my husband I won't let that happen!)
I wanted to let you know that you're not alone, and I'm certain you'll be amazed at the outpouring of letters you'll receive from those us who love animals, especially dogs and horses, as we understand what you're going through. Because of this experience, I am also reminded of the responsibility we all have as their caretakers and what amazing, wonderful gifts they are.
Kelly Bauer
Via email
I look forward to your columns every month but this really hit home. I had to put my dog of 15 years to sleep last January, and I still miss him very much. He was my buddy and my best friend. I know how you feel, but remember this, when it is our time to leave this place and cross the rainbow bridge our dogs will be waiting for us. I know that my C.J. is waiting for me.
