Wednesday, June 11, 2014

The agony of losing a much loved pet.

Yesterday morning we watched our beloved dog Ernie die in our arms. It was heartbreaking, and something you can never prepare for.  Writing helps me to grieve, so I wrote down some of my thoughts on life with this beautiful soul. Today, I've been dealing with a 2 year old who adored him, lying in bed sobbing and asking for his friend to be in there with him. Heartbreaking!

If I could write to Ernie, for speaking would be impossible through my tears, I’d begin by thanking him for showing me that love is unending and expanding. From a little house in St Kilda with just us, we grew to 3, then 4, and eventually a family of 8. Every morning for 14 years I listened out for the pitter patter of your paws until you pounced on my bed, and burrowed under the doona straight into the ‘spoon position’. You comforted me, and made me want to stay in bed that little bit longer. When you almost died as a puppy you taught me of bravery, of love and sacrifice, and of your fighting spirit. Through you, I learnt of my own ever expanding capacity to love. I shall miss your cheeky wags, but I will find comfort in 14 years of memories, of wagging tails and noses at fences, of opening drawers and unwrapping chocolates, of tricks, nutbag runs, riding around St Kilda with you in my bike basket, sniffing at doors on Acland St, cuddles, endless face licking, mischief, love, and so much more. Without you I will be less, but because of you I am so much more. Goodbye my beautiful boy. Love Mum. Xxxxxxx

If dogs could write letters, I think Ernie would write: Dear Mum, Thank you for adopting me all those years ago. Thank you for loving me, for cuddling me under the doona every morning, and for finding me a perfect sister to play with when you worked. Thank you for getting up on frosty mornings to explore the neighbourhood, for all those beach loony runs, and endless dog parks full of furry friends. Thank you for making me such a loved member of the family. Oh the bones, how I loved the bones. If only you had let me eat more people food, mum, then you’d have been perfect. I love you mum, and I’ll always be around you, all you need to do is think of me.

By Sharon Newth