WHY does it hurt so bad when you lose a pet…?
This week, the final domino fell for us, having lost our beloved black lab Oliver.
I called him Braveheart because he was just that for me. He lived almost 15 years and was picked out and brought home by Carl. I recall Adyn calling me at work and saying, “Dad brought home a puppy,” and me responding with “wrong number” and hung up. (sigh)
Oliver was named after Oliver Twist, and boy did our other black lab, Indy, who crossed over a few years ago, torture him. She chased him, dragged him around by his collar until one day he grew larger than she was, and the table turned. Oliver and Indy were the kids I had when my own went off to college. They sat with me in my tears and jumped and danced with me in laughter and joy. They grieved with my kids and me after our losses. They never complained about what TV shows I would watch or the meals I made. My Black Labs were perfect companions.
We had anticipated that our time was coming to a close with Oliver, but as many of you know, it is like getting gut-punched when you make “the difficult” decision. As we sat holding him, our vet talked with us, and we recalled stories of him jumping out of a window to chase burglars away. He and our corgi, Walter, never got along. And that is why Walter lives in Denver. Oh, the fights those two would have. And as we sat talking, I started doing my relationship line with Oliver, from first impression to these last few minutes. It’s part of my Grief Recovery Method Certification I use with clients, and now I am using it for myself. I was and AM so very SAD. Like the back of my eyes want to burst into tears, my throat hurts, and in the silent moments, the cries that come out are wails with me crawling into a ball.
As we sat there, the elephant in the room was, “How will we explain this to Noah?” He is only four years old. It is a delicate conversation. Right?
But you know how kids teach you lessons? As we cried out our tears with our vet, Ben Kaiser, and left for home, it felt like we were under a million bricks. It was a heavy evening and night.
And what lesson did Noah teach us? Well, part of Noah’s afternoon schedule is feeding the dogs, so when it came time, he asked where “woofy” was, and I could hear his dad respond with a kind, soft-spoken, “Oliver is now in Heaven with Grandpa Carl, Indy, his great-grandpa Gus and great-grandma LOLA. And, without a beat, Noah said – “OK, he’s OK. I will miss him”.
Our hearts are still fresh with our loss, and we really miss our Braveheart. But as life moves on, our chocolate lab, Charlee, doesn’t know what to think; she’s been under a table, not wanting to trust anyone. Except for Noah and his PB&J.
Rest in Peace, Sweet Oliver, Braveheart~ Woofy.
