Community isn't just a word...
...it's a way of life around Maryville. And that hasn't been more apparent to our family since we lost our beautiful golden girl.
The outpouring of prayers and condolences has been amazing. Many from my readers, those who never met Chaser but felt they knew her personally through my column. They are all wonderful people who understand pets aren't just four-legged creatures. They are part of the family, with souls full of unconditional love that bring us such joy.
Here's a sampling of the heartfelt wonders that have helped us the past few days:
Fred, also known as the store greeter at our local HyVee, sent my husband home with a red rose after learning about Chaser's passing.
Cards from neighbors and our amazing vet, who wrote about our sweet girl who earned her angel wings "too tragically soon."
An elderly neighbor - who upon learning about Chaser - made a donation to our local animal shelter in her honor.
The Maryville Daily Forum, the flagship newspaper for my column, ran a photo of Chaser in today's issue: http://bit.ly/dymRLa. (Obviously my column was written earlier...I temporarily lost my sense of humor in the meantime.)
As for us....we're hanging in there. The abrupt change in routine has been heart-wrenching. My husband gets up in the morning...then wanders around aimlessly. No puppy to let outside to start the day. He mowed the yard yesterday, struggling with the fact his 'supervisor' wasn't out there with him. After finishing dinner last night I just sighed and looked at my husband. He sighed in return and said, 'I know exactly what you're thinking. There's no Chaser here to lick the plates.'
Yep. EXACTLY what I was thinking.
No Chaser to climb the stairs with us before bed at night. No Chaser to bark when the doorbell rings. No Chaser begging to be sprayed with the garden hose when I water the plants.
No Chaser to snuggle up with on the floor. Or give belly rubs to. Or put my arms around and bury my head in her golden fur after a really hard day.
Everything is so friggin' quiet.
Someday. Life will feel a bit more normal.
Someday I'll stop listening for the jingle of her collar.
Someday I won't cry each time I see a tennis ball.
Someday.
Just not today.
The outpouring of prayers and condolences has been amazing. Many from my readers, those who never met Chaser but felt they knew her personally through my column. They are all wonderful people who understand pets aren't just four-legged creatures. They are part of the family, with souls full of unconditional love that bring us such joy.
Here's a sampling of the heartfelt wonders that have helped us the past few days:
Fred, also known as the store greeter at our local HyVee, sent my husband home with a red rose after learning about Chaser's passing.
Chaser's Rose
Cards from neighbors and our amazing vet, who wrote about our sweet girl who earned her angel wings "too tragically soon."
An elderly neighbor - who upon learning about Chaser - made a donation to our local animal shelter in her honor.
The Maryville Daily Forum, the flagship newspaper for my column, ran a photo of Chaser in today's issue: http://bit.ly/dymRLa. (Obviously my column was written earlier...I temporarily lost my sense of humor in the meantime.)
As for us....we're hanging in there. The abrupt change in routine has been heart-wrenching. My husband gets up in the morning...then wanders around aimlessly. No puppy to let outside to start the day. He mowed the yard yesterday, struggling with the fact his 'supervisor' wasn't out there with him. After finishing dinner last night I just sighed and looked at my husband. He sighed in return and said, 'I know exactly what you're thinking. There's no Chaser here to lick the plates.'
Yep. EXACTLY what I was thinking.
No Chaser to climb the stairs with us before bed at night. No Chaser to bark when the doorbell rings. No Chaser begging to be sprayed with the garden hose when I water the plants.
No Chaser to snuggle up with on the floor. Or give belly rubs to. Or put my arms around and bury my head in her golden fur after a really hard day.
Everything is so friggin' quiet.
Someday. Life will feel a bit more normal.
Someday I'll stop listening for the jingle of her collar.
Someday I won't cry each time I see a tennis ball.
Someday.
Just not today.
Kelly, I know I haven't sent a note but please know I have been thinking about you. As I was walking my lab Bo {you know Bo} I thought of you.
ReplyDeleteSending you hugs and hoping it gets easier.
Les
Thank you, Les. Give Bo a hug for me. :)
ReplyDeleteThat void just plain stinks! Thinking of you and sending you lots of love! C
ReplyDelete