Life with our furry soulmates is not just better simply because they are in it – it is better because of all of the ways they enrich us. One of the greatest blessings of my time with Murdock was the people we met along the way. When he went to heaven, some of those connections were lost. They were part of the fabric that was our wonderful life together. I miss that life, and I miss our people.
As I may have mentioned a time or two, Murdock loved to walk. We went for walks at the same time every day, twice a day, regardless of the weather. And we encountered the same fellow dog walkers (and dogs) at the same time, every day, regardless of the weather. I seldom learned anyone’s name, but the smiles became warmer over time, and our meeting spots predictable. I saw these walkers more often than I did most people, and even nameless, they made my neighborhood feel like home. I miss their familiar faces, and their dogs.
When you have a furry soulmate that is the center of your world, you talk about them. A lot. And, you find others who have a similar devotion to their own animal. I spent countless hours retelling Murdock stories to co-workers. I knew the names of all of their dogs, and made treats for them for Christmas. I cried with them when their furry friends went to heaven and they were unwavering support to me when it was Murdock’s time. Our animals brought us together, and were the center of our friendships. I miss laughing as we shared stories, and having a group of “dog friends” who understood me.
When you have a senior animal you spend a lot of time at the vet’s office. And when you are afraid, or sad, you rely on the doctor’s guidance, and if you are lucky, their comfort. Murdock battled cancer for a year before his departure. We sometimes visited his vet and oncologist every other week. They were with me for the most difficult times; they had to share news that broke my heart; and they were caring and understanding in a way few others could be. It sounds strange to say that I miss the doctors and their staffs, but I do. I miss those smart, dedicated women, who cared for both Murdock and I like family, when we needed it most.
Murdock had physical therapy for his weakening hind legs for the last eighteen months of his life. We went weekly, sometimes more. I liked being there more than he did (he was the one working), mostly because of the staff (and of course, the dogs). They cared for him as if he was the most special of their patients, they worried with me when the cancer appeared and then reappeared, and they walked right next to me until the very end. I miss the life updates we shared at our appointments; the way they loved my quirky boy; and how they always knew just what we both needed.
With Murdock’s departure, are all of these wonderful people also gone from my life? They certainly don’t have to be. But when the thread that wove through our lives to bring us together is no longer, holding the tapestry together is difficult.
As I have written so many times, I am grateful. Murdock brought all of these wonderful people to my life – whether I didn’t even know their names, or they held me when I cried, or they simply loved my boy. As with so many other things, Murdock led me to just what (or to who) I needed.
