It's been a hard week.
Abbey, who came into my life in 1996, passed away on Tuesday morning. She had been coughing for a couple of weeks, but seemed to be getting better.
She ate normally, she played "Toys" almost every day, including Monday evening.
We cuddled, she came up to me for her usual scratches and pets.
But I guess it was her time.
She was very sick Tuesday morning. I took her to the vet's office--she wanted to go. She jumped into the back seat, I didn't even have to lift her hind legs.It took a little tug to get her to come out, but she walked into the office, walked (with a little tugging) up on the scale to be weighed.
Immediately after they showed us into the exam room, Abbey collapsed, heaved a big sigh, coughed twice, and died.
The vet didn't even have time to get a syringe of medication to ease her pain.
She's gone now.
I am stunned that I feel so sad. I'm not sleeping well, have had headaches, everything smells weird, and tastes weird. I guess this is real grief.
I know this will pass. At least I hope it will.
She followed me everywhere.
If I got up in the middle of the night, she woke up and followed me to wherever I walked. She was my constant shadow.
Her little feet always stamped on the floor in joy when I walked in the door after work. She always gave me a dirty look when I gave her a cookie before I left for work. Her fur is everywhere. I am reluctant to clean my car because I'm not ready to get rid of it yet.
That's Abbey smiling in the back seat in early August. I surprised her and Dudley by taking them on a road trip to Bellingham. We played on the beach at Lariby State Park. She loved the feeling of the cool pebbles on her belly when she laid by the water.
We drove around Bellingham, and, just like we used to do when she was a puppy in Ohio, we stopped at a Dairy Queen, and the pooches shared a small vanilla ice cream.
She was so very happy that day.
This was love. Thank you, Sweetheart. I miss you.
