Five days ago I wrote the following in a journal:
“MoMo is not well, I’m sitting with him while I write my new moon wishes.
1. I ask that Mo is comforted and given the best care till the end of his days. May he feel loved and find small joys and comforts until he’s ready to depart this world. I love you Mo.”
He left this lifetime three days later and I believe my wish was fulfilled. We nursed him through those final days and nights and did as much as we could to ease his suffering.
He was such an amazing little dog and a privilege to know. So strong and brave, never complaining even when he was pushed to the limit. He had congestive heart disease and tolerated being exercised and me always asking him to walk a little bit more. All he required was a pat in return and some hope that we could go back to the car soon.
Such a foodie, he endured limited rations and a restricted diet. We discovered that limiting salt, carbohydrates and processed foods greatly relieved his symptoms. He never seemed to begrudge us for his boring dinners.
There were so many habits and characteristics I loved in him. Waiting by the kitchen for food even when he hadn’t any energy, his big sighs, lying down with a cheeky eye following me about, his back always against some random object, his face licks, his chin on my hand, self-consciousness, stubbornness that almost matched my own, the softness of his fur, wanting to come for walks even when he could barely walk….. The list is long.
I became so attached to him over the past year and a half. Little by little he became less my partner’s and more ours. I took on most of the walks and outings and began taking on feeding, vet visits and expenses. I became responsible for his care and wellbeing. He needed me and I needed him.
There is still his mate, Yo. He needs help adjusting and is a little lost like all of us. Our bond is different because he needs less care and is a different dog.
I am worried I will forget MoMo or forget the details. I wish I could remember everything. I’m worried that caring for MoMo may have replaced or concealed my desire to be a mum and am concerned about what may happen to my relationship now. The dogs were not the glue that brought us together, I hope I use my extra time and energy for things I wasn’t able to do.
I have to admit that I’m also feeling relieved that I don’t need to clean up wees on the carpet or take the dogs for separate walks or take time off work to go to the vet or worry about MoMo’s health and death.
The timing of his death couldn’t have been more perfect. All of his favourite people were there to say goodbye. No work, time to grieve, us owners absolutely positive that it was time. Afterwards, we placed his lifeless body on his mat so that YoYo and us would get used to him no longer being alive. Straight away, Yo jumped in behind MoMo. Our hearts broke all over again. But over the day, YoYo realised that his mate was different. As did we all. Yo would sniff MoMo’s body then move away.
The burial/funeral was lovely. We all helped dig the hole (YoYo even came to look at Mo in the grave) and finding flowers and covering him up. We placed a large rock on top. With him there was Rosemary, Lavender, Forget-me-nots, Camellias, mint bush and more scattered on top. It was a gorgeous spring day, warm and all the flowers out. MoMo was at peace.
We’ve talked about our grief. The kids have seen my tears bubble over. I feel heavy and removed but am still doing everyday things.
On the day we had Mo put to sleep, we built a tree house in the backyard. I had a big walk and talk with Miss 11 child. We deal. We move forward.
Goodbye handsome MoMo. I love you.