In 2020, I wrote a farewell blog to my Corgi Mix, "Reina". The name means "queen" in Spanish, and she certainly held sway over my heart. What follows is an updated blog to include the entrance of a little spitfire named "Gracie".
The gift of connection is fraught with
the grief of separation.
Simply put, we outlive our dogs, and
it’s just not fair.
When I met my dog Reina for the first
time, there was an element of loss in the joyful mix; I did not feel it, could
not have identified it at the time. But there was a wiggly layer of sadness
inside our first meeting, and that niggling thread would follow us through the
five years we had together.
The grief would grow more insistent
the day the vet told me my girl had Canine Degenerative Myelopathy, a condition
which would cause some pain and possible paralysis in her hindquarters.
The sting of losing her this way, in
slow dribbles, tracked us like a cold shadow. Our walks became shorter. She
accepted my help getting into the car, out of the car, up the steps, into the
apartment.
Many things were the same, but even
the familiar rituals felt short-lived, more precious.
Brief walks along the lakeshore,
lurching along like a couple of mellowed oldsters, just sniffing the breeze and
hoping for polished beach glass along the way.
Lots of treats. More than necessary;
lavish gifts to hold onto our good moments.
Head pats, ear scratches, belly rubs.
Little luxuries to ease the pain.
Small affirmations whispered into a
world of
gifts
and goodbyes,
homecomings and heartaches,
rescuing
and relinquishing,
mending
and mourning.
I lost her in February of 2020.
In March of that year, the world shut
down.
The emptiness in my apartment became a
thundering silence; a constant reminder of she’s-not-here-anymore.
The sequester was deeply solitary for
me. More profound, really, than lockdown in the world of uncertainty we were
dwelling in that dark year.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyY-e8hZgpOr8qZL8smQYfX6iTbONpZxqPsScJcvQi7ilILyTUAwkitiLQ7r1q83QH9OAfK_oh-Tgx1Dwr51H9QwoAR5_DDBcWMJb8vKZTVqjsBGJoTcTZMAS9yo4rjoJnJfSyuoYGZ_mxZQ5bKlqTNzLEY6HQ5bTkIGb5gqDAUSgGCAURa_2UNJd67OgD/s320/Reina%20Bug%20pink%20halter.jpg)
It’s a strange yet familiar journey,
this pilgrimage with dogs. These days I have Gracie as my little sidekick, the
heartbeat-at-my-feet. Like Dear Reina, I know Gracie, too, will succumb to her
passage over the rainbow bridge.
And I will mourn. Once again, I will
know the anguish of losing a pet. The empty food bowl, the resting leash –
still hanging on the hook beside the door. Echoes of clickety-clack paws on the
floor tile; recalling her unique bark so keenly, you think for a moment she has
returned.
So, the question follows me like some
kind of no-nonsense coach: Why would you do this over again? Why do you keep
tolerating these goodbyes, only to turn around and welcome another dog into
your life?
There is no logical answer.
There is only a wagging tail, an
upturned face, a slobbery wet kiss on the nose. This is all we need to begin a
new story.
The retelling of that story, later on,
will far outweigh the pain of goodbye.
Sidebar:
Kathy is passionate about rescuing dogs. Gracie is a rescue from Northern Chautauqua Canine Rescue in Westfield, NY. In November 2021, Gracie ran off and went missing for 5 days. Kathy and friends launched a search along the Bayfront Connector in Erie, where a Good Samaritan found Gracie – she was hungry and weary and happy to be returned home. Kathy enrolled Gracie in a wonderful dog training program, Dependable Companions Dog Training, LLC , located in East Liberty, OH.
Due
to her excellent training and confidence-building, Gracie is a thriving Corgi,
living her best life. She enjoys car rides and rambling walks in the woods. She
knows “sit”, “stay”, “treats”, “car ride”, and “suppertime” and is fluent in the
unspoken language of steadfast devotion.
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