Losing a pet is hard. Very hard. Just after Christmas, we said good-bye to our loyal Labrador Magic. He was almost 14. He was the very first family pet that we got with the kids. I remember the car-ride like it was yesterday. We hadn't told them where we were going...it was one of our family's BEST surprises!
In my opinion, chocolate lab puppies are just the cutest! And he was such a good boy. Mellow, obedient, full of joy. And he really loved being with his humans. He went on countless camping trips, beach swims, walks, and even hikes through the snow. He wanted to be wherever we were. And there was always a family member who felt the same about him.
For nearly 14 years.
As fate would have it, the boys were home from college when we made the call to the vet. We knew the quality-of-life appointment could result in the hardest decision, but it felt serendipitous that we could be there for Magic's last car ride, like we were together for his first. And Dr. French, the most empathetic vet we'd ever met, was gentle with her assessment, with her recommendation. She made it okay for us to let him go. In her words, "Labs will never tell you when they're ready. They just want to make their people happy."
But Magic was ready.
So we fed him spoonfuls of peanut butter and pressed our faces to his floppy ears and soft cheeks. We cried as we rubbed his belly and hugged him tightly around the neck. We took comfort in knowing that he wouldn't be in pain anymore. That we'd been blessed to love him for his long and happy life. That it was time.
The first few weeks are the hardest. The empty dog dish, the lonely leash, the nose smudges on the french doors, the dog toys. We waded through the early days of missing him, because that was the cost of loving him.
And slowly, very slowly, our sadness was replaced with memories. Memories of socks eaten and holes dug and ocean swims and long walks and his happy, wagging tale, and his soft snore, and his soul-searching eye contact, and his wild zoomies. As we let those joyful moments come to mind, as we started to text pics of him in the family group chat, we started to let the healing begin.
Thank you for being ours, Magic. We will always love you. Give Milo and Dakota big hugs from us. We will see you again. Until then, enjoy the endless dog treats. Good boy.
An excerpt from one of our favorites books, Dog Heaven, by Cynthia Rylant:
"Dogs in Dog Heaven have almost always belonged to somebody on Earth and, of course, the dogs remember this. Heaven is full of memories. So sometimes, an angel will walk a dog back to Earth for a little visit and quietly, invisibly, the dog will sniff about his old backyard, will investigate the cat next door, will follow the child to school, will sit on the front porch and wait for the mail. When he is satisfied that all is well, the dog will return to Heaven with the angel. It is where dogs belong, near God who made them...
"Dogs in Dog Heaven may stay as long as they like and this can mean forever. They will be there when old friends show up. They will be there at the door. Angel dogs."
{J}
