Buddy died in my arms last night, at home, peacefully and quietly. He
had been diagnosed with cancer last May, and it slowly invaded his body,
ultimately affecting his heart and lungs. The vet said Buddy would not
make it to see the summer, let alone live through it. But live he did,
tail wagging and eyes sparkling, and I made sure he had the best summer
ever. He ate steak and fresh strawberries, swam and retrieved endless
sticks, chased chipmunks off the deck and napped on the
couch. And then I had to let him go. I woke to my new reality of life
without my beloved Budster. No gentle snoring in the corner of our
bedroom woke me this morning, no nails clicked behind me on the hardwood
floor as I made my way to the kitchen for coffee. My home feels so
empty, and my heart is broken, the price one pays for loving so
fiercely. We sign up for this reality when we bring that puppy home to
share our lives, but damn it's hard to say goodbye.
