Six and a half years ago we brought her home–2.2 pounds of pure cuteness and, as we’d later discover, feistiness. Her official name, according to her papers, was Glyndebourne’s Chelsea. She was just Chelsea, or later Chels, to us.
On Wednesday, Gerry and I held her, told her how much we loved her, and said goodbye to her.
Today, my heart is shattered.
I have no words.
My sweet girl. My perfect dog.
What happened? Oh my goodness. What a precious dog. My heart is breaking for you.
It wasn’t entirely unexpected, Christine. Just much, much, too soon. She had a collapsing trachea – not uncommon in the breed.
Oh Linda…saying goodbye to our furry friends is heartbreaking. I’m so sorry; it was too soon, far too soon.
May all the wonderful memories temper the ache in your heart.
Bittersweet though they are, precious memories do help. Thanks, Denise.
Dear Linda, I understand what you are feeling because I, too, have been shattered several times by the death of one of the cats with whom I’ve lived. When Dulcy died in 1989, she gave me a book about our relationship. She began with the words, “At the end, all that matters is love. My love for my human and hers for me. I have planted the memories of our life together in her heart. She will find them there and they will comfort her.” I hope and pray that your memories of Chelsea will comfort you. Peace.
I know you understand, Dee. Hugs.
Linda, saying goodbye to those sweet little dogs and cats who’ve become family is hard. My heart is filled with the pain I’ve felt in the past when we too have had to say goodbye. Hoping that your memories of Chels will sustain and comfort you in the coming days. Hugs.
Thanks so much, Sherrey.
My sympathy to you.. I am sure she is safe at Rainbow Bridge..thats where my little mate is
🙂
Dear Linda, I hope that you are taking comfort in the memories you and Chelsea shared and that you are being gracious to yourself as you grieve. Peace.
You know, I am Dee. For the first time I’m giving myself permission, and time, to grieve this loss instead of putting on a stiff upper lip. I believe that healing will come sooner if I allow myself to go through the pain rather than avoiding it.
Comments on the retirement-chain series are closed, so I am commenting on an “open” one.
I have to say retirement itself is a challenge, especially if you loved your career as I have. You say you are moving. The good thing about that is that the challenges of the move itself will replace the other work you have been doing, so you won’t experience a vacuum, as I did.
One thing I know for sure: It will all work at perfectly. Why? You are asking God for direction. “In all thy ways, acknowledge Him, . . .
Come visit “plainandfancy” again when you have a chance. Lately I published a post on comfort quilts and wrote a review of BLUSH for Shirley Showalter, our mutual friend.
Ah yes, Marian, I agree that following God’s perfect direction means all manner of things will be well. Heading over the “plainandfancy” right now!