I’m sad this morning. Our little “weiner” dog, shadow, died last night. She had a blood disorder and we knew she wouldn’t last long. She has been a source of joy for the last twelve years or so. She loved kids. She loved everybody. If somebody ever broke into our house I’m sure she would wag her tail with joy and leave a little love puddle of pee at their feet. She was the most gentle, upbeat, “happy” dog I’ve ever been around. We will all miss her.
Shadow always slept at our feet at night. She would snuggle up against our legs to keep warm. My wife will especially miss her presence when I am gone on the road (which is a lot).
When I came home last night my wife was holding shadow against her chest as she struggled to breathe. My wife then said, “Greg, I think Shadow is dying right now.” With that she stretched back as far as her little neck would allow her to, licked my wife on the cheek one last time, jerked three times and died. Jeremy, my five year old son, didn’t quite get it until I told him to come over and say goodbye to shadow. When I said, “Shadow is dead. She is gone and she won’t be coming back” it finally hit him. Jeremy began to cry like I’ve never seen him cry before. Kailey, our two year old, began to cry because everyone else was crying. It was a house of mourning over our little dog last night.
I ended up telling stories about Shadow for about thirty minutes to distract my wife and son from the pain. We laughed, cried, remembered and thanked God together for our special little dog.
The saddest thing last night was not when Shadow died. I was expecting that. The saddest thing I saw was when Jeremy ran down the stairs to say goodbye “one last time.” I followed him part way down so that I could witness this poignant moment. He knelt down by shadow, put his hand gently on her paw, whispered something to shadow and then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. He began crying again.
It’s tough to watch your little boy “get” death for the first time. Last night we talked about life and death. We talked about “resurrection”. We debated on whether or not dogs will resurrect from the dead someday (Jeremy is pro dog resurrection. I am not.) We hugged, cried, laughed and prayed.
Although she was a little dog she lived a pretty big life. We love her. We’ll miss her. Pray for my wife who is heartbroken, my little boy who is struggling with the reality of death for the first time and for my little daughter who is crying because everyone else is. Pray for me to have wisdom to know how to comfort them.
We will all miss you Shadow. You were the best dog I’ve ever had.
