My dog died today. She was thirteen years old, deaf and blind, but happy. She lived a mostly happy life and was loving and loyal to the end. She went to the vet because her stomach was distended/bloated and had been for a couple of days without any sign of relief. Unfortunately, there was nothing the vet could do but give her a final injection to end her discomfort. Her time had come, sooner than I liked, but I new the day would come when the choice had to be made.

Tonight, I'll drink a toast to her and the years we spent together. I owe her that much, even though I didn't get to say goodbye; she was sedated and it was pointless to let her wake up only to put her down. If I have any regret, it's that I didn't play with her more when she was younger. Still, I tried to do my best by/for her and she was loyal and happy to be around me, so I don't feel too bad.

While I know I'll never see that lovely sweet pooch ever again, I don't feel anything but hollow and numb right now. There's a disconnect between what I know and what I feel. I'm sure that something in the coming days or weeks will remind me of her and the sorrow of losing her will hit home. Until then, I'm just going to carry on as usual. I don't see that I have any other options.

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