Puppy went to Heaven over a year ago, after 15 years of loving him.... more than my own life. I feel like I have lived about 7 lifetimes... One of those was a "not so great" time. Very little, to no money....struggling to pay my rent and eat. But no matter how little food I had, Puppy had everything. I've often gone without (food and lots of other things), to make sure that Puppy had food (his normal food, not something cheap bc I was low on cash), his treats and anything else he was accustomed to. Simply because, it wasn't his fault that I had screwed up my life, so why would I make him sacrifice or suffer? Like I said, I loved him more than myself. I firmly believe during that hard time, Puppy is the reason I survived. I had to get out of bed every day to care for and play with him. Had it not been for that reason, I might not have gotten out of bed.
It's been 16 months since I laid him in his little, pink bed for the last time. Sobbing uncontrollably, as my boyfriend covered him. I've never felt a pain so horrific in my life. Earlier that day the vet called to say what I knew, but didn't want to accept it..... The surgeon had gone in with the intention of removing the tumor(s). I had agreed if it were really, really bad that they would let him go then. It would have been cruel to let him wake, just so I could say my goodbye. I often wonder if that is part of the reason why I haven't recovered or truly dealt with what happened. I do have a tendency to avoid problems or just things I don't want to think about.....
I'm hoping writing will help me a bit. Everyone who knew me, even a little bit, knew Puppy. So, now when I see or speak to friends from those 15 years of my life, they always ask, "How is Puppy??" Sometimes, it's the first thing they ask. Anyway this is my beautiful baby boy....my little prince...once fondly dubbed, his full name....PuppyChowLoMeinNoodlePuu-PuuPlatterHead.
This last pic needs to be updated. It's much nicer now. I have a little stone bench there as I tend to sit for long periods of time out there. And he has a cast iron, cat-shaped marker that has his name and years on it. I miss my little man and I know I will see him again...one day.
