There’s been a death in the family. Our sweet yellow lab has passed away. What a horrible gap in our household. My husband and I are going through the motions, but there is something missing. Our routine of the last 13 years is broken. The tears are gone. I’m left with swollen eyes and a broken heart. So…now that I have saddened all of you…here is the reason I share this.
Today, without my furry friend, feels a bit like my first day of sobriety. Yesterday I walked in the door and he greeted me and I fed him, and I walked him, and I loved him. It was very routine and very normal. Today, I walked in the door and didn’t know quite what to do. I looked around and I had all of this “empty air” around me and nothing to fill the void. That’s what my first day of sobriety felt like. The day before, I opened the bottle of wine, poured the wine, drank the wine, drank more wine…The first day of sobriety I wandered around and didn’t know quite what to do with the void.
But eventually, I filled the void. I developed a new routine when I got home from work. I poured a glass of water if I was thirsty, I sat down to read your blogs, took a walk (with my buddy), or attended an AA meeting. Now I have another void to fill and I’m sure I will. Time will heal the hurt. He’s in a good place…no pain…no suffering. Rest in Peace, Cooper. Thanks for listening.
changingcoursenow 
Oh, I am so sorry about the loss of your adorable dog. I have been in your shoes (with both alcohol and the 11-year-old golden retriever we lost five years ago) and I remember that ’empty air’ feeling following Abby’s death all too well. You are right that with time you’ll fill the void and heal. (Despite being a lifelong dog person, it was almost a year before I could even contemplate getting another one–fast forward 5 years and we have a 4-year-old golden boy and a brother likely on the way this spring!) In the meantime, the best advice I can give you is to go really easy on yourself, the way lots of us do in those first days of sobriety. You’ve had a shock and if you need to baby yourself while you adjust, so be it. Take care.
Kristi
Thanks for your thoughts Kristi. This is the hard part of owning a pet – being responsible enough to say goodbye. Yes, I am babying myself a bit, and feeling better today.
I am so very sorry you’ve lost your beautiful boy. Of course there’s such a sad void for you now. That sense of loss and grief is so painful; go easy, be gentle on yourself. Hugs from me.
Thank you so much for your thoughts. I am being gentle with myself, allowing myself to grieve, yet thankful he is in a better place. Thanks for the hug!
: ( it is so hard to lose a furry friend. I”m so sorry. It’s been more then 3 years since I had to let my dog go, she lived a great life (lab shep mix) but I still miss her. Many hugs.n
Thanks so much for the hugs – I feel them…and they help.
So sorry for you 😦 I will keep you in my thoughts.
Thank you Rebecca. I appreciate your thoughts.
They live on in our hearts and memories, but damn it hurts. Time for another new routine.
Hi Sharon – Thanks for your comment. I’m working on that new routine. At least I’m still walking (when I used to take him on daily walks). It’s getting better…
So sorry for you and your family. Furry family members are so hard to lose. Cooper was blessed to have you for 13 years! He is a beautiful dog and looks very loved! Hugs to you and your family
Thank you so much for your thoughts. We appreciate the hug –
My husband says: “The only problem with dogs is that they don’t live long enough”. And how true that is. When I’ve had a dog pass away, for the next few months I find myself noticing a black blob or a tan blob in the edge of my field of vision and think: “That’s Fawn, or that’s Gus”- then realize they’re gone, and feel mournful all over again.
May your grief be balanced by the extraordinary joy Cooper brought to your family and the love you shared with him!