Duncan has been a part of our lives for almost ten years; his being part of our family pre-dates our marriage. He's been my buddy through everything. He doesn't have a lot to say, and what he does say is often obnoxious, but he's a great listener. He probably knows me better than any human person other than maybe Lynda. I don't talk about feelings often, I don't even like acknowledging to others, or to myself, that I even have them. For the most part I suppress them or shut them off, especially to people that aren't extremely close to me.
I've been fortunate in that for most of my life I haven't had to cope with many personal losses. I've only even attended one funeral in my entire life. Yesterday we learned that Duncan has cancer, and that it's spread so far that treatment is unlikely to help him. So tomorrow, I will be taking this guy who has been part of our family, who trusts me implicitly, and who doesn't understand that the next few weeks of his life would be filled with suffering, to the vet to be put asleep. It's the right thing to do, but it still feels like a violation of trust to make this decision for him. He'll trust me as I'm taking him to the car, he'll trust me as I'm driving him to the vet, and he'll trust me as the doctor injects him with the drugs that will deaden the pain, and ultimately take his life.
He's not even ten yet, and he deserved to have many more years. Nolan just started trying to actually play with him. I don't think he will understand why Duncan isn't around anymore. The two of them wanted to be buddies, but were just a little too skittish around each other. I felt like that barrier was about to go down, and it feels so unfair that it couldn't have happened before losing him.
I care deeply for a lot of people, but I don't use the word 'love' very often. Only to people I really care about, but who I also feel really know me as a person. If you're one of the few people I have told that I love you, I hope you know how much you mean to me. I love Duncan, and it breaks my heart so much for this to be happening. Every time I go to bed and he's not there to nudge me to lift up the blanket for him to crawl under, I'll notice his absence. Every time someone comes to the door, or a truck drives by too loudly, I will be thinking about how Duncan is not barking at it unnecessarily. It was annoying that we never broke him of that, but the silence will still be worse.
I don't believe in an afterlife. I think that's one reason I feel so affected by his loss. I don't believe that Duncan is going to some wonderful doggy heaven, but I hope that I am wrong and that he can spend the rest of eternity happy. I love you, Duncan, and I'm going to miss you so much.
I should probably add something here.