I thought the post I wrote after Flash died so unexpectedly was the hardest one I would write this year. Fuck that, said 2020.
Today is the hardest, weirdest day I’ve ever had. I left home early this morning, after checking on Cyrus and confirming my husband knew how to care for him for the day. I went up to my friend’s house and we all started driving north with my friend’s amazing Double D trailer, to pick up my new horse near Seattle.
Everyone, meet Talia’s River. Today was supposed to be a fun road trip day with my best friends, coming home with a loaded trailer in contrast to the empty one in October. I so wish I could have the same enthusiasm for bringing her home that I did Flash…but on our way up my husband called and said Cyrus had stopped breathing.
After rushing him again to the vet, the best guess is his heart couldn’t quite take the pain and fallout from his back. He was on some pretty heavy pain meds, so whatever happened, he slipped quietly away without pain. To get a necropsy done Tom would have had to drive him down to OSU alone and I just couldn’t ask that, as much as answer would help. This wasn’t on anyone’s mind as a possibility, and Cyrus had seen four different vets in the past week. Again, everyone says we did all the right things and gave him so many good years….but fuck all they weren’t enough!
So today I have two different thoughts to hold…grief and pain and supporting my husband and son in our loss, Cyrus was the Best Damn Dog.
On the other…I have a new partner to explore the world with, to let my grief out in her wildly beautiful mane and pour all my love into.
But fuck it all, I miss my dog.