Losing My Best Friend

Many people will not understand my pain at this moment.  Sitting on my couch feeling disconnected, sad, angry, and alone with a physical pain in my chest that feels as my ribs will break any second.  My soul, at it’s core, is cracking.  It’s a feeling I’ve experienced before.  More than once before, but never easier to accept.  Over time, the pain slowly is erased with cinematic reels in my mind playing the perfect memories that warm my heart.

Today, I said goodbye to Lille Belle, my over 16 year old King Charles Cavalier.  Lilly has been dealing with congestive heart failure for several years and her failing health took a drastic turn last week.  Another visit and more medication might give her a little more time.  More time that I needed… to accept my responsibility and duty to know the time when Lilly’s quality of life would be at it’s end.  Lilly Belle passed on March 24, 2022 at 5:40pm assisted by the kind staff at Yukon Veterinary Hospital.  Dr Burris allowed me to hold Lilly close, outside in the sunlight, as her body without pain slipped quietly to the other side.

Last night, I couldn’t sleep even after prescription medication.  I will doze off a few minutes, only to wake with an immediate urge to check on Lilly.  Each hour, I found her wandering off into her favorite sleeping places around the house.  Her base camp was by the living room TV, but loved to venture under Terri’s work desk, between our desks or even four feet from the front door.  After each search and rescue mission,  I would rest her comfortably on her favorite blanket.  The last hour of night, Lilly make it to my bedside and yelped twice.  I scooped her up and cuddled her on the couch.  The same place that was her standing reservation every Sunday morning while I would enjoy my first cup of coffee and read my Feedly updates.  It was Lilly’s happy moments, laying on my lap, while I would explain the craziness of some articles.  She would look up at me, almost telling me … “Does it really matter right now?”  Rarely did it, but if I left my Sunday morning post, Lilly Belle was wandering right behind me.  Maybe she knew that what matters the most was sitting quietly together, everything else was just noise.  She was wise.

Lilly Belle was perfect, like all our furry family members with their own personalities, quirks and emotions.  She knew how to brighten my day when I was down and helped keep my demons at bay long enough for me to recover.  Lilly saved my life more times than I count by just being there close.  She never judged me for my poor choices, my imperfections, my insecurities or the times I was upset over the constant barking while she protected her cache of bones and treats.  Lilly Belle loved unconditionally but loved groceries just a little more.

Lilly Belle taught me a valuable life lesson.  The things you accomplish in your life span will always fail to compare to how you helped others feel.  She always knew me and a cuddle can break the chains of depression, the gravity of PTSD or just fix the stress of the average rush hour traffic road rage.   

Lilly’s rules of life would be simple:

Love without expectation

Cuddle with abandonment

Lay in the sun often

Eat dessert first 

Never say No to a car ride.

Lilly Belle will always be a piece of my heart I can never get back and I wouldn’t trade a single minute for anything.  I last words to her, whispered in her ear, before her body released the pain of disease, was “I will be right behind you.  Soon we will run in the warmth of the Sun.” 

Hug your family and friends, the time is later than you think.