sweet lucille


Hey there friends.  This is a sad post to write, but I wanted to share a little of what's been going on behind the scenes the past few weeks.  As much as I like to try to keep this blog about my creative pursuits and focus on the good things in life, I also feel like I can't really get back to those posts until I talk about this first.


Nick and I had to say goodbye to our dog, Lucille, a few weeks ago.  I know many of you have shared when your pets have passed away and so I'm sure you can understand the heartache we've been feeling.  Lucille was 10 years old, but her death was sudden and unexpected.  She was her usual happy self when both of us came home from work, but began acting funny around 8 or 9 pm - not eating dinner, breathing heavy. She continued to decline throughout the night and by 5am she was gone.  There was nothing we could do.  The only bright side is that we were both there with her in the end, and though she was in pain and scared, it wasn't prolonged.  And I think we both feel somewhat grateful that we didn't have to make any hard decisions about putting her down.


Lucille was 2 years old when I met Nick.  He got her as a puppy while living in the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia.  She was a mutt and the runt of the litter, and she stole his heart by constantly untying his shoes.  She was no bigger than a loaf of bread.  When I met Lucille for the first time I remember thinking "wow, that is a good dog."  I've always loved dogs, but Lucille was the first dog I ever met who was truly a good dog.  She was amazingly sweet tempered with everyone and everything - even when we brought our shitty cat, Mister Muscles, into the house (Muscles looooved Lucille, by the way).  She was also incredibly smart and well behaved.  She was just easy. And she had nothing to give but love. I always joked that Lucille resented me showing up in Nick's life - that she was Nick's #1 girl, but that couldn't have been further from the truth.  She was my #1 girl, too. 


I've never thought of myself as the type of person who considers my pets "my children" or "my furbabies".  But Lucille was my family.  It's amazing how much she was a part of the fabric of our lives - in ways I've never thought about until she's gone.  I miss the sound of her nails click clicking on the hardwood floors.  I miss her heavy sighs, and her snores.  I miss the weight of her head in my lap and the constant presence of her at my feet.  I miss her velvety ears and soulful eyes. I miss having an excuse to go for walks. I miss that there is no fanfare - no one visibly excited - when I open the drawer to get the 'poo bags'. I miss her toys and her food bowl and I even miss her shedding. Thunderstorms take me by surprise (Lucille hated thunderstorms and would begin panting and shaking well before we were aware that it was even going to rain).  I still pause every time I open the front door, thinking she's about to run out to me.  


I feel a bit like a crazy person that my feelings of grief and loss are so shockingly profound, but I know those of you that have loved and lost an amazing animal will understand.  I wish there was more decorum allowed for the loss of a pet.  Lucille deserves better than a blog post, but sadly, that's all I have to give.

Thank you for letting me share my little heartache with you all.  I'm hoping that in sharing this sadness I can get back to posting about what I love and what makes me happy without feeling like a fraud. I just didn't feel like I could gloss over this like it never happened.


I miss you, Sweet Lucille.


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