Good-bye My T Girl.

Thank-you Dee. Here are a few pictures of our last day together.

I am very sorry walkamile, she was an exceptionally beautiful girl. From going through this currently myself, I know that the fact that she had a wonderful life can seem somehow irrelevant to the urgency of her not being here, now, and to your sorrow. You loved her, stood by her, and made her life special and wonderful - there can be nothing to question about the beauty of these things.

The special memories are such a gift, and you will always have those to cherish. I know how much your heart must be greiving, I wish you peace and courage.

I'm sorry for your loss. She was so pretty.

I've been so focused on Waka's adjustment not having T there anymore, that I haven't allowed myself to think about how I feel.

Today, while driving home from work, very busy and demanding day, I found myself suddenly sobbing. Had to pull over, as my grief racked my body and made it so difficult to breathe. How foolish of me to have thought that I could simply stay so busy that I could stay ahead of the grief. No one escapes it. Best to just let it wash over you and deal with it.

I was so glad to get home and went right out to Walka. Needed to breathe in his wonderful aroma, and remind myself that I still have him , a little piece of her.

I know those that have lost a cherished horse or pet in fact, know what I'm saying. I know that the tightness in my chest will ease, that the racking sobs will also ease. Just have to get through it I suppose.

It was 2 weeks ago Monday. Seems like ages in many ways. And yet, sometimes I swear I hear her loud/demanding call.

Funny thing is, last night my husband told me how surprised he was at how well I am dealing with the loss. I chose not to tell him about today. No need to. Won't change anything.

Walka, I'm very sorry! RIP, beautiful girl.

So sorry for your loss. Had to say it again.

You are allowed to grieve. You lost a cherished companion who was a part of your life and owned a piece of your soul.

I promise you, it gets easier. Not necessarily better, but easier. You will never not miss her, but the jagged, painful wound won't be so raw in time. You'll eventually be able to think and speak of her with smiles and laughter instead of grief and tears.

I couldn't even say Conny's name for the first year after his death without bursting into tears. Five years later, I still shed a tear now and then over him, but the good memories far outweigh the bad ones of his death and loss.

It's a steep price to pay for their companionship, but I paid it gladly. I wouldn't have missed those 21 years I shared with him no matter the cost.

My favorite quote that sums it up for me: I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance.

I wouldn't have missed that 21 year dance for anything, and I'm certain you feel the same way.

Hugs, dear. We really do understand.