Bearnaise Sauce Dogs, Grief, My New Reality

Too soon

Berner wag Kind people are thinking of us when they learn of dogs who need a loving home. One was a Bernese, the other a Saint Bernard. (Seriously? As if a Bernese weren't a big enough dog for two little girls, no matter how mighty we are in spirit.) We would love another Bernese when the time is right, and I am grateful to be part of a breed club with an outstanding rescue program and to know the people who screen and foster those dogs. People who love a particular breed will understand how the one you know so well is particularly winsome and suits you better than any other ever could and leave a gap, in this case very large, that can only be filled with one silhouette.

There are a lot of ways it's too soon, and others in which it feels like too big a gap already. We ought to be fixing a dog's dinner at a certain time, or his breakfast, or refilling her water dish. 

It turns out that the walking schedule of an older dog who thought 20 minutes or so around Greyberry Woods in the morning and another 20 around the neighborhood in the afternoon was perfect was also perfect for the little joints in my feet affected by Rheumatoid Arthritis. 30 minutes at a time is just bearable. 35 minutes at once is a little too much. 

But it's too soon. We have other adjustments to make, LP and I, and I have things to figure out, like a new, one wage-earner budget. 

I really hope Molly and Sam aren't the only two dogs ever to be part of my life, but I can't say the way is clear. Not yet.  It's just too soon.

12 thoughts on “Too soon”

  1. I completely understand. In February it will be one year since we lost our beloved Ouzo. For a month or so, Truffle grieved with us. Now she has settled in as an “only” cat. She is ten years old and it feels unfair to introduce a kitten or even a grown cat into the family.
    It is also too soon for us. Peter and I both still tear up when we talk about our little man Ouzo. He was special. So special.
    I am so sorry for your losses. You will know, your heart will tell you, when the time is right.

  2. When Tart died last year, I thought I probably would wait a year for a dog. Then two months later we saw Daisy as a rescue on “pet of the week” and jumped. You’ll know when the time and dog is right.

  3. many hugs. it is soon, and there are other things, too. but you and LP — one day the pet who needs you, and whom you need back, will find you. love and craziness will ensue. xoxo

  4. One day the shattered, jagged pieces of your hearts will begin to smooth out like the colorful, exquisite pieces of sea glass on a favorite ocean beach – and another wonderful, loving, giant of a dog will slip into your world again. I pray for peace and love for you until then.

  5. Like Sue said, your heart will tell you when you are ready and what that will be. Love and hugs to you and LP.

  6. Y….We just long for you to be through all these hard and painful adjustments – but you’ll know when the time is right.
    Meanwhile, hugs and prayers continue xxx

  7. Right after my kitty died I got inundated with offers to take other peoples cats. The hole in my heart was just too big and I feared that if I adopted a cat too soon I wouldn’t love it for it’s own unique personality. It took a year for me to be ready for my current kitty little guy whom I love very much for his laid back personality and countenance.

  8. You’ll know when you’re ready… or, ready enough, anyway. There will never be another Molly or Sam, just like there will never be another Cub. But someday the time will be right to welcome a new one. I still cry over Cub on occasion, and it’s been two and a half years. But we do take delight in our Tuesday girl.

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