Dear Dorgy,

Today we took you home… in a nice little box in the shape of heart with an engraved paw on it and the rest of you in the plastic tub. I put the heart next to your photos and lit the candle. 

Looking for some stuff, I found couple of your toys – a squeaky ball and a half of the duck. I put them next to the photo, the candle and the heart. They were your favourite toys, things you loved to play with so much. 

On the way home I was holding a paper bag with ‘you’ on my lap and couldn’t hold my tears. It felt like a final step. You are coming back, but not the way I would want you to in a different world, but in ashes. 

Finally you became my ‘lap dog’, my ‘dream’ came true. 

We still haven’t decided what to do with a ‘big part of you’. Maybe we will scatter them out in one or two of your favourite places… I don’t know… It all feels so surreal. 

It is interesting how you come up in a random conversation every day. I would never imagine it all like that. You were in our life so deep, that now the space left empty after you’re gone hurts so much. More and more we talk about your strength and intelligence. Being so strong until the very end…. people can dream about it. Strong character, strong spirit. Maybe one day I will become as strong as you. But now I feel so weak and vulnerable. I should remember how strong you were…

Intelligence… “He was so actively involved in everything we did, was so genuinely interested in everything we did”, we both were agreeing. I know it can sound completely nuts. But how can you explain when a dog wasn’t there just physically but was intentionally involved and present… That’s how we saw it. Interested in everything and not because of the need to sniff everything but because was curious why we do this thing or another.

Now you are home. It doesn’t feel much different, to be honest, apart from a physical proof that you’re totally gone. Maybe I should believe in spirit and think you’ve been here all the time since… sometimes it feels this way when I am out of the house. But it’s not spirit, it is a habit of having you home waiting for me. 

I think it’s one of the most difficult things…knowing that you are not waiting for me anymore. You are not waiting for me anymore. You are not waiting for me anymore. You are not….

It’s been two weeks. It’s past midnight, so it’s already Thursday, which means it’s the day when you started to feel bad and then deteriorated drastically. Two weeks. I don’t feel better or worse. It’s been simply bad all this time. I still can’t tolerate ‘how-are-you’s and find it difficult to see all reminders of you. But I don’t want to forget about you either. T. doesn’t want to talk or mention you or see a picture because it all makes him extremely sad. It makes me sad, too, but I cannot NOT to. I cannot NOT to talk about you, NOT to look at your pictures, NOT think of you. I want to go through this, through this pain…. for you. Just for you. I want you to know I still think of you and love you the same way I did. 

I feel so heartbroken. It’s hard to explain some people. It’s hard to want to explain. I just don’t. 

I wish now I spent more time with you, kept you home longer, cuddled you more, patted your silky body more often and played with those velvet ears without stopping. You’re such a beautiful puppy!

Sweet dreams, my boy! Welcome back home ❤️❤️❤️💔💔💔 

Love,

Me