First off, when a dog has been your companion, confidante, and the one who was ALWAYS there - you don't *ever* let that go easily.
**Add to that** the caretaking (and worry) that you went thru for 2 1/2 months ... and when you lose them, all of a sudden there is a giagantic HOLE.
Because letting them out was your first conscious thot in the morning and snuggling them was the last thought at night usually.
The fabric of your life HAS been completely torn apart.
**But** -- you will re-weave it. You will be better and stronger for having known her. She has taught you SO much -- some of it is "I will never do this with another dog" ... or "I should have done this earlier ..." or just plain the knowledge that you need to work on *you* as well because it was more that Cherokee reared you ... rather than you taking care of her.
Chelsea I do *not* say that with any sort of condemnation or condescention in my tone -- because I've been there, done that, PERFECTED IT ... (and had a little more time to become more dysfunctional *sigh* with Prissy), but oh Chelsea, I soooooo understand.
She was there for you when you needed her to be. And now it's your job to pull the pieces together and continue being the woman Cherokee loved. So you can take all you learned with her and put it to work helping another dog go further.
One of the things I have *always* admired about you is your dedication to her -- the fact that you just keep working with her, and tried to keep learning more and more how to deal with her better.
10 years is too short -- but remember, Chelsea -- CHEROKEE would say "but I had a good life with my girl -- and no one else would have kept me!!" Somehow you were hand-picked to love her. I have always felt that.
Muffin the Intrepid was sick (renal failure) for six weeks. I swear Chelsea -- I've lost many dogs, but that six weeks was THE WORST because it wasn't fast but it wasn't "slow" (some dogs live with it for a couple of years -- some dogs fight cancer far "longer" than Cherokee did) -- but illnesses like Cherokee and Muffin had are unbelievably intense.
And as a result ... they make the mourning harder. Because there is a huge part of this that is a sort of "survivor's guilt". It's simple - I'm here, she's gone. THAT hurts. It hurts like freaking heck.
But ... she is, in a very very real way, STILL with you. She's in your heart, she's in your mind, she's in your memories, and MOST of all, she's a basis ... a focal point for what you know about dogs. Every single dog you will ever have (that is *yours* - not just a dog you live with) EVERY ONE will be colored by what you learned from Cherokee.
Chelsea -- Prissy has been gone now for ... almost 18 years. (THAT alone makes me sit here and weep)
But I never *ever* see a can of Pringles -- in a store, at a picnic, on an advertisement -- *never* can I see one and not think of Prissy so much it's ALMOST painful. And that's only one of many, many, *many* things.
Saving the last bite for her? Chelsea -- I hate to break it to you but you're pretty darned normal. so many of us have done that ... or something very similar ... that they are sitting there reading what you have typed saying "oh yeah ... man, I know THAT feeling"
The thing you have to work on is making it so it doesn't incapacitate you. Taking those memories and *doing* something with them. Pushing yourself every single day to take steps further.
I know that because I've had to do that too. And at this point seeing a Pringle doesn't send me into hysteria. It doesn't make me cry any more. Not because I feel less -- but because I've come to accept and realize that it was just one of the many many things that was completely unique about Pris (she didn't just "like" them -- she had this way of eating them ... and PART of that was her insistance that you handed them to her the ***proper*** way up!! Duh ... so they curved over her tongue please and thank you!! Dingy human -- they are shaped perfectly to lay on her tongue the right way -- but if you handed them to her "upside down" she would back up, *** her head and look at you like you were out of your frigging mind -- would you like to try that AGAIN ????? puh-leeese????)
Now -- I can laugh. And remember. But it took a long, long time Chelsea.
And now, I ***look*** for those unique things in other dogs. I remember Mike tha Dog and Scott Tissue (his favorite chew toy) and candy canes at Christmas. I remember Foxy the Mostlie Sheltie and his insistence that you could **too** herd pine needles -- if you were only given the time and space to do it!! I remember Muffin the Intrepid and his insistence that as long as there was yet one more child on the cancer ward at Shand's Hospital then WE weren't done yet!! (he never pulled on leash -- but just TRY telling him it was "time to go" when HE knew HE hadn't visited all of them YET!)
I remember Pollyanna and strawberry ice cream moments. "WOWWWWWWWW -- AWESOME!!!!" (yeah, her lips moved when she said that -- I'd swear it). Ms. Socks and tomatoes (David and I STILL call them 'maters in her honor!!!)
It goes on and on. But losing Prissy taught me to FIND those moments. Those "save the last bite for her" moments - because Chelsea -- they are ***precious*** moments.
You aren't crazy. You are remembering a beloved friend. You are grieving.
When grief is fresh WE are numb. And it takes about two weeks for it to really flower inside of us. The fact that you are feeling almost more devastated every day simply means your healing enough to *feel* more.
My mother used to say "if it hurts ... then you know at least that your'e ALIVE". I don't care whether i stubbed my toe or burned my finger. Mom never let me mope or be despondant. And that phrase actually has proved that to me many many times.
You're hurting -- and the up side of taht is it means you are truly alive ... you're just hurt.
Just keep going hon. You're doing well. *hugs*