Today marks three weeks since Duncan was put to sleep. This week it started feeling a little easier to accept him being gone, but that was short-lived. I'm still trying to get past the feeling of guilt over taking his life. I know that's not really a fair way to think about it. I've read so many stories where dog owners were able to give their dogs the best last day that they could, but I didn't have that chance with Duncan. His last night and his last day were filled with anxiety and despair. I hope I was able to comfort him in the end but I have no way of knowing what he was thinking or feeling.
I've been kicking myself over the fact that I didn't try calling other locations or doctors in the state to see if he could get an earlier appointment. I can't even remember if I'd dismissed the idea, or if I was just so flustered that I didn't think to do so. Yet another thing to feel guilty about. I have to keep reminding myself that the oncologist called me to let me know they weren't optimistic that they would be able to help him. But, I also keep pushing that thought aside because I feel like I deserve to feel bad about the decision to put him to sleep.
People are out celebrating with firecrackers and fireworks, and each one is a reminder that Duncan's not here to react to it. Duncan hated fireworks. We made him a special hiding place for holidays because so many people set them off here. So many 4th of Julys and New Year's that I'd spend most of the evening comforting him.
Last night Nolan started throwing food on the floor and just watching it. He's not speaking yet, so we can't ask him why, but we're pretty certain he was expecting Duncan to finally come out of hiding to eat it. It seems he's been carrying around some of Duncan's toys because they were Duncan's. I put most of them away because it was painful to see them, but Nolan's latched onto a little stuffed giraffe and a big blue gecko toy. He doesn't seem distraught about Duncan not being around, but it's clear he's wondering where he is.
I've been going through photos and videos. I must have hundreds of them, but I wish I had more. Most of them are of Duncan sleeping or relaxing, but there's a decent amount with him and Nolan together. He was quite the fluffy little photo-bomber. I don't have many recent photos of him looking happy, and I regret that I didn't take more. I was watching a video of Duncan playing last night, and Nolan came over and sat on my lap to watch it with me. He reacted about the same way as he did in the video--joyous laughing.
Going to bed these past few weeks has been difficult. It's really the part of my day that I dread the most. Getting Duncan off the couch to follow me to the bedroom was a nightly ritual, and lying down without him jumping up next to me is a constant reminder of his absence. Today I happened to look out the window and his nose prints were still all over it. Any time one of us left the house without him, he would sit on the couch staring out the window waiting for us to return. His separation anxiety was bad enough that he might stay at the window the entire time one of us was gone.
I haven't done a great job of staying in touch with people or responding to messages over the last few weeks. I do want to say though that I've appreciated all of the comments, messages and experiences that people have shared with me since we found out that Duncan was sick.
I should probably add something here.