Rest in Peace, sweet Rooney.

I lost one of my best friends today. Rooney had to be put to sleep this morning. He couldn’t breathe on his own.  Even with strong meds, IV fluids, and days on oxygen, he wasn't getting better. I couldn’t let him suffer anymore.

He passed  in a bed of comfy blankets, stretched up against my leg, with his head in my lap. I hugged him, caressed his soft head and wrinkled face and told him how much I loved him. How honored I was to be his mom. How proud I was of him for always being such a trooper. What an incredibly good boy he was. I told him how much he would be missed. How he would be in my heart--and in so many hearts--forever. And ever.

He drifted to sleep peacefully. I don’t know how long it will take before I can sleep peacefully again. For the past two nights I’ve tossed and turned, staring at his empty chair beside my bed, praying he’d get better. Begging any and all gods, and the universe, to bring him home so I could roll over and see his cute face pressed against the pillows of his chair again. My prayers weren’t answered.

He’s gone. My heart feels as empty as the big comfy chair where he used to sleep.

The house is too quiet. I keep waiting to hear his paws on the hardwood floors, or his tail thumping against the couch and walls, or him barking for no good reason.

Our shoes are right where we left them. I cry every time I see them. 

I don’t want to wash my hands, or my shirt, or his blankets, or his stuffed toys, because I’m scared I’ll wash away his scent and never be able to smell him again.

I walk into the kitchen and start to cry because he’s not following me. He’s not staring up at me waiting for food. He’s not sitting on the rug in front of the sink. I can’t get used to him not being under my feet. It never bothered or annoyed me. I loved him being there.

I can’t bring myself to touch his bowls. He wasn’t supposed to get any extra treats because of his sensitive stomach, but now I wish more than anything I had given him some eggnog on Christmas because he loved eggnog so much. I had no idea it would be our last Christmas together.

I didn’t take enough pictures and videos. I look at the hundreds I have but they aren’t enough. I should have taken more. None of them captured how sweet, loving, and precious he truly is was.

My lap is so cold as I sit here typing these words. For years, I haven’t typed without some part of his body pressed against me. I had to start typing just to make sure I still could without him by my side. He was there for every book I’ve written. Right beside me. Always.

It’s so quiet, and cold, and lonely. I feel sick, and lost, and empty. My snuggle buddy is gone.

I know he’s free from pain, in a better place, in a beautiful heaven where he has more treats, toys, shoes, and eggnog than he could ever ask for. I know all of that, but it doesn’t dull the pain. I know time heals all wounds, but could someone please press the fast forward button?

I miss him more than these inadequate words can express.

Rest in peace, Rooney. I love you times infinity. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo