Saturday, January 21, 2012
Facebook and real life friends of mine know that on Thursday, we had to put Millie down at age 12 years and 4 months to the day. The arthritis in her hips and bad legs had gotten to be too much, and the girl couldn't walk anymore. Sam and Mum brought her in on Thursday.
The sadness and pain are unimaginable.
We're all trying to get through this as best we can, with mixed results. We all knew that she was old and sick, and that she had had a long and full and happy life, but it doesn't make this period any easier. We've been emailing each other photos of happier days, of Millie running on a beach or walking in the woods. It's easier to remember those days than the end.
This also marks an end for us, the end of our childhood pets. Penny, Midnight, and Millie are all gone, as is that phase in my life.
I'm thinking of happy memories of Millicent. When we lived in Gloucester in the winter at that off season rental, and when I was home from college I'd take her for walks on Long Beach so she could run. When she used to sleep with me, Penny, and Midnight all together in my little twin bed. When you'd push the swirl on her behind, and her tail would instantly flop down, as if for modesty. Her neuroses. Her quirks. The freckles on her nose.
I know it was time, but it highlights a cruel caveat to having pets: inevitably, you will outlive them and have to experience a great sense of loss in what seems like a moment after they've entered your lives.
So rest in peace, sweet dear Millie. A day will not go by where I will not appreciate all you brought to our lives.