Grief and Joy

My husband’s dog died today.  He was fourteen, had hip dysplasia, and had already lived two years beyond the expected lifespan of a Malamute.  He didn’t live with us, but rather with hubby’s parents, as we decided it would have been cruel to move him to a smaller yard at such an advanced age.  He got bad the last couple of days and this morning my father in law called the vet to come put him down.  My husband, the 911 Dispatcher, couldn’t get off work, as his big boss didn’t consider it a family emergency.  Nevermind that the dog is more important to him than many of his family members.  So he asked me to go instead.  And though I loathe funerals and death and usually avoid them at all costs, I went.  Bawling the whole way out.  But he was gone before I got there, before the vet got back from his truck with the drugs.  My father in law was barely holding it together, and after the vet left he insisted on showing me all the plans for the updates to the kitchen so that he could save his “manly men don’t cry” face.  I had to leave him digging the grave to come back to work.  My husband was able to get off at noon and go out to help him finish, and that’s good because he’ll get some closure that way.  My boss offered to let me off the rest of the day, which was cool of her, but I declined.  Too much to do.  Shadow wasn’t even my dog, and I’ve been blubbering off and on all day.  Thank God I have a door I can shut.

And in the midst of all the bad, we got something good.  Our nephew was born this morning, a healthy 8 pounds 4 ounces, so there’s some blessing to mitigate the grief.

It makes me think about all the horrible stuff we do to our characters.  All the conflicts and challenges and hardships we heap upon them in the name of good plot and pacing.  It seems to me that it just makes the happily ever after that much more of a necessity.   Having to have the bad to appreciate the good, I guess.

I locked my keys in the house on my way back from lunch.  Not sure where that fits into the scheme of things, other than another irritation.  Brain’s kinda not working well right now.   Sorry this is disjointed.

One thought on “Grief and Joy

  1. So sorry to hear about Shadow. We literally lost our schnauzer several years ago. We looked and looked for over a month and he was never found. We’d had him for 7 years. Since he was supposedly the kids’ dog I was surprised how hard it hit me. I cried off and on for a week worrying he was hurt and lost without us. We now have Emily who is a mutt from the pound and we adore her.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.