Thursday, June 18, 2009

A Dog's Life

Last week I had the unpleasant task of saying good-bye to our family dog.
Norman had been with us for almost 12 years. My husband and I got him as a wee little 5 week old puppy early on in our relationship and he became a major part of our lives and eventually our family. He traveled with us, lived in multiple homes with us, welcomed our two daughters into the home, protected us, loved us and occasionally annoyed the hell out of us. Just like any good relationship does.
So as my husband and I lay with him on the floor of the vets examination room telling him how much we love him, (Norman, not the vet) ((although the vet is pretty cute)) my thoughts were racing between how much I love this dog…how much I will miss this dog…and how will I explain to my 5 year old daughter what happened to this dog.
Our oldest daughter had grown to LOVE Norman. Called him her brother. (Clearly from my husband’s side) And although we had been laying the ground work for a while that Norman was getting old and having some health (cancer) issues and would die one day, this was still going to hit her hard.
Once the deed was done and I was able to fight back the tears for a few minutes, I sat her down and delicately explained that Norman had died. She exploded into tears.
Heart breaking! How will she ever get over this? How will she grasp the concept of life and death at such a young age? Such a huge issue for such an innocent little girl.

And then, through her wailing and tears she sobbed, “Can we get a Chihuahua on Saturday?”

I think she’ll be just fine.

Me on the other hand…

R.I.P. Norman.