It seems surreal that one week ago, today, I brought Shelby to the ER (again) for vomiting in the a.m. and being “off”. Call it mother’s intuition, I knew something was wrong with my girl but had no clue it was so dire. Looking back on what happened, I truly believe it was Shelby trying to warn me that something was wrong so I would bring her to the vet where she would have a violent grand mal seizure (and I wouldn’t see it). That was what started our journey to the end.
In the week almost week since Shelby has been gone, I have gone through a slew of emotions. I have been blessed by a wonderful job that has allowed me to take the week off for bereavement. I have had wonderful friends that have stood by my side and remained constant in their communication either via FaceBook messages, emails, calls, texts. It’s exhausting and it’s overwhelming. And as great as they are, they don’t all truly ‘get it’. Everyone says to me – take peace in knowing she isn’t in pain. Shelby wasn’t in pain (her vets assured me of that). She never suffered. She was tired. She was weak. She wasn’t 100% happy but she was in my arms and she was content. She wasn’t scared. She knew I was there for her.
Every time I close my eyes, I see the Shelby that I saw right before they carried her little shell of a body away from me. I don’t see the vibrant, energetic Shelby. I always see beauty though. In the end, as I fed her baby food, she would lick at the spoon and miss and get it all over her muzzle and she smelled a bit like baby chicken food. And I would wipe her face. And kiss her face. But she was still beautiful to me. As tired as she was and as quickly as this all happened, she was still my girl
Mornings are weird. I would always get up and check on her and now I will stay in bed for forever with no reason to get up. I ordered food for dinner last night and left the bowls on the floor -the wine glass full and next to it; no concern about anything getting into anything. I dropped part of a chocolate brownie on the floor and didn’t rush to pick it up. When I turn the corner into my kitchen, I no longer watch out for the water bowls. Yesterday, as usual, I would pour my bottle full of water into her bowl before filling it for me. I poured part of the water on the floor out of habit. The bowls are no longer there.
Her beds remain in the same locations. Her toy bin full, except for the few that I have taken to sleeping with. Every time I walk into the apt, I look first at the bed and then at the bathroom.
I sleep, a lot. My body hurts like I have run a marathon. My arms feel weird from NOT lifting Shelby (we used to call them biceps by Shelby). I am binge watching shows on Netflix. I don’t cry as much. This concerns me. I also don’t freely smile. I find myself just staring off into space. Like a zombie. I feel numb. I am going through the motions of living. Right now I am existing. I miss her and think about her every waking second.
My goal for this blog is to try and capture the good about Shelby … I want to remember all her stories. I have dealt with this kind of grief before (the loss of my father) and I know how my mind operates. I will try and block out all memories in an effort to heal but Shelby and I had great times. I thank you Tripawd world for the support, the love, and allowing me to indulge.
This is how I plan to remember my girl: