She was so tiny the first time I picked her up. 3 lb's to be exact. I held her against my chest and something in me snapped. Went haywire. Came loose. An uncontrollable need to just hold her. I don't think it came as a shock to anyone, but it was a sign that I wasn't as 'okay' as we all thought. The next few weeks were followed with intense counseling called EMDR. It's a form of therapy that helps a person deal with PTSD. Even in the middle of all of it, I could only think about holding her again. There was a physical ache.I had one last session...crisis averted...we found the trigger and I was going to survive. In place of the anger there was only sadness now. Coping was the important thing. So feeling a bit relieved but no less heart heavy I walked into my kitchen that night and there she was. Sitting under the high chair that should have been for my baby...there she was...and she was good....good for the soul.
The problem was...in my desire to have her...to let her make me feel better...I didn't think about the day I would have to say goodbye to her too. A word from the wise...don't get a puppy to help you grieve the loss of a baby...because someday that puppy will die. And you will be left without your baby and without your puppy. As far as I'm concerned don't even get a plant...plants die too.
Back to the puppy. She was 3 lbs. Exactly the weight of my son when he was born. She went everywhere with me. Eventually I had a baby boy and she couldn't go everywhere with me because frankly carrying a little dog and a baby seat was impossible. She was a trooper though. She was always little and always thought of as a puppy because she never made it over 10 lb. Two bags of sugar. She liked to sleep under the covers where it was hot. Even when we were camping she would get in my sleeping bag and sneak all the way to the bottom by my feet. Sometimes at night I would find her wedged between the edge of the mattress and the sheet under all the covers. She obviously required very little air. But she loved heat. She could get closer to any fireplace and stare right into the fire and just get hot. It was bizarre. She thrived on the warmth. She was sweet and tender and she was mine to cuddle when I was sad...but she was getting sick. Three times I had her at the vet and they said to get ready...three times I said I just couldn't. She was my link to a boy I wasn't able to hold. The worse she became the more I tried to prepare myself but nothing worked. The reality sucked. It just sucks.
As I sipped my coffee yesterday morning and listened to her trying to breath I knew we had less than 24 hours. Quietly I asked my Father what was I thinking asking for a puppy to help me with that stage...This was too hard. Quietly I heard the voice of my Father tell me every boy needs a dog...and Isaac was ready to take over. I wept.
That is the ONLY thing that got me thru last night. As she was drowning from fluid in her lungs and around her heart, as I held the oxygen to her mouth and said goodbye, I knew my boy was waiting to take her. They are 11. Every boy needs a dog. Every dog needs a boy.
I love you Tessa. I will miss you so much. Thank you for filling a hole in my heart bigger than Texas with your tiny love and peaceful presence. You were and always have been good for my soul.
