There is a sadness that comes over you when you loose a beloved companion, and it is a sadness and a darkness that made me want to strike out at the gods and smite them for their audacity to have denied my beloved Ms. Winne a long life. She died too young; she was full of energy and wanted only to be; and to be loved for the beautiful companion that she had become. She loved life as much, if not more, than I did; she understood more than I did; and she new what I did not know: that she was ill but had not the ability to let me see or know it until it was too late.
A check-up ten-days before her death she had received her shots and a review for heart worm. She was ready for the new adventure into the Carolinas’s for the winter. At the Wixom Veterinarian Clinic, she had been given a clean bill of health.
I don’t know why this tragedy occurred to what was previously diagnosed as a healthy and fine Ms Winnie. She didn’t make the trip. She didn’t get to run the beaches or taste the salt…
How could this have happened” I have asked myself this question a thousand times.
After a normal walk around the block Winnie was unleashed from her collar and was a normal healthy dog. She walked up the drive way and laid down on the grass. She turned her head and raised it up as if wanting to look into the sun; I watched as she canted her head as if wanting to feel the rays of the sun’s heat on her face. She laid quietly. I went to her, kneeling down and began to stroked her side. I instantly knew something was very wrong. Winnie was not in a normal state of exuberance but a severe state of melancholy. Her eyes had a sadness to them. A tired look. It was a look of despair and wanting…but of what…
Minutes later we were in the car and I rushed her to the 24-7 Animal Hospital and within moments the Veterinarian said that she was in serious condition and quite frankly might die! The thought and words were unthinkable, unimaginable!
Three hours later after considerable medical attention, Ms. Winnie slipped into unconsciousness and died at 4:40 p.m. on Christmas Day. A very large part of me died too that day. My wife and I have no way of describing the loss, the quietness, the large aching emptyness that creeps into the day and evenings when we always looked to see our girly-girl curled up and asleep on her bed and under a soft blanket. There is now nothing there but an emptiness that persists and the longing for her to come to me with her toys is a joyless hope.
BUT I DO KNOW THAT NO COMPANION WAS LOVED MORE OR GOT MORE ATTENTION AND PROBABLY MORE COOKIES THAN SHE NEEDED.
We received Ms. Winnie on Christmas Day six years earlier. It seemed impossible that here it was only six years later on Christmas day when she had died.
Her image lives with me and so do her memories. It is all that I have…and there are days now when it seems to be not enough; however, knowing the way she lived and the love she gave and got has to be enough to last me for a life time. It simply has to—
Love ya Ms. Winnie, play nice with Cooper and Gus-Gus.