A friend is going through an equally tough time today… She asked if it gets easier so I’m re-posting this for her and her boy. Heart dogs are irreplaceable. Still miss him every day, but it does get easier.

Pittieful Love

Today, two years ago, you picked us 🙂  That’s what you really celebrate when you adopt a dog…who cares how old they really are.  We celebrate the day you changed our lives, and we changed  yours.

I can’t possibly express how much that rainy, cold Monday changed our lives.  I tried to tell you about it in the three letters I wrote to you (Here, here and last but certainly not least, here).

When I wrote those posts, I was caught breathless by the support from our readers (I say ‘ours’ because where would I be without you, boy??)  Everyone, and I mean everyone, said such kind, thoughtful things.  Some understood how I was feeling, some wished and hoped they never did.  One particular reader quoted a play/film called Rabbit Hole (which I have yet to see), but it really resonated with me.  In a nut shell (

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5 thoughts on “

  1. It must be fate. I discovered your blog by accident. Your letters to Knox started showing up here just a few months after I lost my own heart dog of 10 years. Your letters said all the things I wanted to say to my fur kid but was unable to find the words to do so. I shed endless tears hiding at my desk at work and hoping no one would notice. But they were good tears, therapeutic tears, tears of healing and tears of joy for the 10 years of happiness and unconditional love I was given by one little black tank of a dog.

    How odd that today I tune in and find you again sharing your soul with us readers. You see I’m dog sitting for a friend this weekend. She’s little, she’s all black, she’s a tank and like my dearly missed heart dog she’s old enough that her face is almost entirely gray.

    When I went to let her out this morning I didn’t bother to put my glasses on. Blind though I may be I can manage the route from the bedroom to the back door. When she walked in I glanced down and through my blurry vision it looked like my special boy was again walking beside me. OMD did that hit me hard. Of course there tears but then it changed and I was thinking about good memories of him. Memories in which he was healthy and happy and full of life. Those memories of him in his last month are fading. I think you are right… my memories are losing weight, getting lighter. Not in terms of how often I think of him but more and more I remember the healthy, vivacious dog and not the poor sick boy who he was at the end.

    My thoughts are with your friend. Please let this person know that whatever decisions they have to make, whatever choices they are faced with… so long as they make those choices with love in their heart the answer they arrive at will never be the wrong one for them or their loved one.

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