Not that long ago, we lost Calbee. Calbee was my wife’s family dog. She was her sister’s dog, but her kids were allergic. So she came to live with her parents, and stayed with us on occasion. Her parents would come home a bit late sometimes, so Calbee was a regular resident at our home. She wasn’t “my dog,” but she became a part of my family. She wasn’t extremely interactive or friendly, but she was my Calbee. I did grow to love her.
When she passed, I was the one who physically carried her to the vet, and picked her up after she was cremated. This was devastating for me. When my dad passed, I was also the one who carried his remains to be interred, as it should be. But its hard to carry your loved ones, humans and fur babies alike.
So we have recently experienced the end of a dog’s life. Now as I look at Peppa, and how energetic and crazy she is, I’m happy that she’s here. But sometimes I feel really sad because I look at her when she’s tired and I know that one day she’ll be tired all the time and I’ll lose her too.
I know I’m supposed to focus on the now, but that thought devastates me even as I write this. I can’t imagine how it feels to lose a dog that you had from the beginning, and I hate that I am so damn twisted that these bad thoughts enter my mind. All I can do now is to make sure that she has a good and happy life, that’s all I have and that’s priceless.
My coworkers tease me because of how crazy I am with Peppa, I really love my baby. But I’ll be honest, I really didn’t want to get another dog because I’m way too sensitive to deal with the hurt of their loss. Calbee came to my life late, but it still broke my heart. Peppa is my dog and the thought of losing her is crippling.
Just a life long New Yorker sharing the journey through my lens. Please take note of a post’s date. The views I express here are subject to change and evolving as I grow and learn.
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