Thursday, March 29, 2007

saying good-bye

I have avoided this topic for long enough. I have put it off in my thoughts, dreams and discussions with others. The loss of my beloved pets. I have buried the hurt, the guilt and the pain of losing you. Today, I felt ready to face my feelings openly and honestly. I finally looked at a picture of the two of you and it was very hard. My heart ached for you.
I have heard it's helpful to write a letter to those you have lost, in order to find closure and say good-bye. Here goes.
Dear Barney,
You were my first child. You came to me in 1992 for what was supposed to be a weekend. I was pet-sitting you. Your name was Mineau at the time and you belonged to my dear friend Leah. She asked if I wanted to keep you and I shouted "YES!" I quickly changed your name because you were a boy and you were born in a barn. How clever. You were the only kitten in the litter to survive. I felt so lucky.
I used to put you on a leash and take you for walks. I would take you outside my apartment building for picnics and we'd sit on the grass. I thought you would enjoy the fresh air. Instead, you would crawl into my shirt and sleep while I read a magazine. We used to play hide and seek and you'd run down the hall and hide in the closet. When I found you, you'd pounce out and meow- like "there, you found me!"
We moved alot in the beginning. It seemed the more I moved, the less material things mattered to me. I left alot behind. As long as I had you and my photos, I knew I would be fine. I would reassure you along the way to our new home saying "Don't worry Barney, we're on the road again and it's going to be okay because we have eachother."
In 1996, I introduced to a hyper but loving dog, Sable. You were annoyed with her at first but you grew to really love her. You soon became fast friends. One day I came home to find an exhausted mouse in between the two of you. From what I could gather, you must have been playing "toss de mousey" all day long. We finally let him go!

I wish our time together could have been longer but you grew tired and old and it was time to say good-bye.
Dear Sable,
I first laid eyes on you in 1996 and your name was Pewee. How pitiful. You were mal-nourished and emotionally fragile. You were born on a farm and being mis-treated. You were often left to your own devices, scavenging for food and shelter. The first day I brought you home, you ran away! You didn't know where to place yourself. You were so insecure and unsure of my intentions. I went looking for you and found you at the animal shelter. I think you were happy to see me and I won your trust. We started off on the right foot after that day. I brought you home and you spotted my cat. You tried to eat him. I promised you that you would never have to hunt for food again and gave you a big bowl of dog food. Before long, I could trust you with Barney. You grew healthy and strong. You now suited the name Sable. You were lean, beautiful and sleek. Though your new found confidence turned you into an Alpha dog, you always remained tender and sweet. You'd comfort me when I was feeling down, you'd turn into a lap dog when I needed you to. I felt I had my very own family with the two of you.

The day came when I had to let you go. I couldn't take you with me to a smaller apartment. I was so devastated but thankful I found someone who loved you like I did. Chris took you for the last couple years of your life. Though your passing was sudden and tragic, I am at peace knowing you spent your last days on this earth running free in fields, knowing you were loved. I don't know if I will ever be able to own a pet again because the loss seems so unbearable at times.

Rest in peace my furry children.

1 comment:

WowoJeans said...

I am glad you were able to put these thoughts out.... having known both of these furry family members, I understand your connection to them, and your grief in letting them go. They helped you during some real growing years, honour them!!!