My deepest sympathies, friend. I lost my girl a couple months ago. She was my everything, and a brain tumor took her far too quickly. I have never loved another creature more than I loved her. Sometimes you get a great pet, and sometimes you get that rare animal who just...connects with you. Maybe it’s the way they stare into your soul, you know? I never had such a bond with an animal before her, and I cried like a baby when she had to go. I’m in my late 30s, and I cried harder than I ever cried for anything in my life since I turned into an “adult”, whatever that means. The pain hurts. It sucks. It really really sucks. Every day after she crossed the rainbow bridge felt like it was never going to be the same... but you know what? That’s ok because it’s true. You think your life changes because they’re gone, but your life changed long ago...the moment you met them. You just never realized how much until now.
Every day afterward I talked to someone who got to meet that sweet girl (and some that hadn’t). I hated the idea of sharing such bad news, but I was rewarded with kindness and stories of goofy pets from long ago. It was comforting to know others have made it out from under that blanket of sadness. First it was hard to talk about; it was mostly about the end/what happened. Then telling that story got easier to do without choking up. Then I was able to share other things she did with a few tears at the end. Then without.
It slowly became a bit easier to remember the way my girl played, snored, farted, and stole toys from dogs 4 times bigger than her at the dog beach. It’s still not the same, and I’m sad that I lost her...but I’m happy to have had her in my life. To have had that special bond that not everyone gets to experience. It’s...hard to describe. To have memories of the strange stains she’d leave that had a subtle odor I couldn’t find for days. How much she would run back and forth before finding the perfect direction to stare at before boldly push one out. The way she idled like a diesel engine when she played hard. How fearless she was. How much she loved that one orange ball, and would stare under the couch until I got it for her (despite another orange ball in my hand). How we’d go driving and I’d pretend she was my navigator. I fondly remember how far she had come from when we first met to when we had to say goodbye. The tears never really stop, but time will grant longer periods of clarity between each one.
The fact that you are thinking so much about him even at the end shows how much you love your pup. You’re a good person, and there’s no doubt your boy loves you. In the end, quality of life is important. It’s a hard battle to have in your brain, because no one ever wants to let go. Please know that when they cross the rainbow bridge, the only pain left is what we feel. We take it all so they don’t have to. Don’t be afraid of it; don’t let it eat you up. It’s that pain that reminds us just how important these balls of fluff are to us. Tell people about your adventures and keep his spirit alive. It will get easier the more you do it. In fact, you’ve already started just by posting here. Keep it up.