I’m still…processing. I rushed Kiwi to our vet early this morning and it turned out she had an intestinal obstruction. During emergency surgery, her heart stopped and they couldn’t revive her.
We’re devastated that our sweet little bleppy princess isn’t coming home. I want to believe that my Russ was standing there, waiting when she crossed the Rainbow Bridge, along with our other furbabies, and that she jumped into his arms, happy to once again see her “Uncle Cheese Stick.” She adored him so much.
When we lost our sweet Gidget suddenly back in February of 2017, I swore no more dogs (even though I’ve had them all my life) and… Well, Kiwi joined our family four DAYS later.
It just feels like hit after hit lately, financially and emotionally, each one harder than the previous one, and I’m sorry this is such a depressing update, but it’s my life right now. I’m…struggling. Ironically, I was on my weekly video session with my therapist when I got the call from my vet. And my therapist is a widow and just recently lost one of her dogs, so she literally understands what I’m going through.
The price we pay for love is the pain that cripples us when we lose that love, be it humans or furbabies. And our sweet furbabies don’t live as long as we do.
Kiwi was a stray we adopted from an animal shelter and I truly believe our Gidget led us to her, knowing how much pain we were in. And I’m not stupid enough to say (again) “no more dogs.” But we still have five cats and Sheldon (our tortoise) who need us.
I’m focusing on placing one foot in front of the other, trying to get these two Bleacke books done so I can collapse.
I’m going to miss and mourn our Kiwi, I’m going to hurt and cry gallons of tears, and I know one day I’m going to be able to smile again. I’ve had to do this too many damned times in my life with furbabies from when I was a kid: Penny, Tuffy, Mojo, Missy, Dog, Doogie, Trouble, Mo, Lobo (Sr), Sugar Bear, Jerimiah, George, Lobo (he was already named that when my parents got him), O.P (an opossum rescue). As an adult: Cat, Dog (different Dog), Gizmo, Snoopy, Bandit, Iggy, Chuckles, Valentine, Bogey, Flustered, Sparky and Popcorn, Hekate, Harley, Bubbles, Holly, Tessa, Scudder, Apache, Callie, BW, Pickles, Margarita, Gidget, and now Kiwi. My grandparents. My sweet Viking, Russ. I hope they’re all there waiting for me one day. Kiwi wasn’t much for other dogs (or cats or many people LOL) but once Russ won her over all we had to do was say his name and she’d perk up and get excited. I’m convinced one of the reasons she warmed up to the Bard almost immediately is because he reminded her so much of him.
The price of love is pain. I don’t know if that’s a saying already claimed by anyone and I’d look it up but, right now, I can’t be fucked (to quote Lazslo Cravensworth).
The littlest beings bring us so much joy when they’re in our lives, and even more pain when they’re gone. And I know even as this extra weight gets dumped into the backpack of grief, eventually, one day, I’ll figure out how to shoulder it.
Love you, Kiwi. You were such a very, very good girl, and we love you so much.