I experienced something new this morning, just moments ago in fact. It was choking, suffocating ball of fear and tears that got stuck in my throat so I couldn't breathe. That's not the new part, though. What caused the fear was the thought of going home today. I've spent the last ten days away at my boyfriend's house (we go to different colleges) and usually I'm homesick and can't wait to go back.
Today is different, though.
Can I give you guys the short version?
Last April, my cousin's boss had dachshund puppies and he offered us one of them for free. A free puppy in a house of dachshund lovers? Of course we took him! We drove three hours to pick him up and he was a tiny thing, just four weeks and born on St Patrick's Day. He was a black and tan long haired and named Dakota, really just Koda but all of our dogs have been D's so far. And since I'm a weirdo with names his name was Dakota Black Bear Rain Cloud. And he was my baby. I poured every ounce of love I could muster into that dog, because he wasn't just a dog he was my baby, my son. He loved to lay with you, play a lot, sit outside, and above all go for drives. He also loved to watch all the people walk outside and really loved big trucks. I'm not kidding! You could just watch his eyes light up and his ears perk and watch his head turn as they passed.
But just a couple months ago he got sick. I'm not going to go through the details, but basically he had kidney failure most likely due to a birth defect that caused them to not fully develop. He was just bones and was always sleeping and it was hard for both of us. I've already suffered from sickness in my life, but I can tell you its a million times harder watching it happen to someone you love. His last day, he suffered. And I held him in my arms in the early hours of the morning until I couldn't feel his heart beat and didn't see him breathing. I rushed into the bathroom where there was light and saw that the light and expression was gone from his eyes and screamed. This deep guttural churning from the pit of stomach that I can still feel, but can't remember. I don't remember if I screamed no or mom, but I woke up my younger sister and parents, only my boyfriend stayed asleep due to his wearing earplugs to sleep. And we just pet him and kissed him until the vet opened and then he was gone.
I think what's even harder is the fact that I prayed so hard for his healing. I knelt and laid face down. I cried and screamed and begged God for his healing, because if he brought me from the brink of death why couldn't He do the same again? And the horrible part? I had so much hope. I'm a negative person, but I was so convinced that God was gonna heal him that I wasn't even too anxious about it all. After he died I freaking waited for him to come back from the dead. But he didn't and he won't.
My mom and sister picked up his ashes while I was gone. And while I thought I was fine with, thinking about going home to a place where my love is missing, where the finality of it all is?
To sit in the same places I used to with him and go on like he never existed. I can't believe he only lived for year because it feels like forever and it feels like even longer since I've seen him, pet him, kissed him, let him sit on my lap and prop him up so he could see out the window and let his ears fly in the wind.
We're getting two puppies in about a week. Most everyone would think we're crazy, that its too soon. But we're dying without him. Without something happy. Without something to pour our love into.
And I know it doesn't seem like it now, but we'll love these two just as much even though I can't even imagine doing so at the moment. And I don't think I'll ever stop talking to him while I talk to God, because I can't.
And I know I'm crazy. I'm okay with that. But for now, I have to be strong and pack my things. Because I'm headed home.