Day 3/4 – Rollercoaster Ride


Honey and Goose. 2015

12:12 a.m. – First High
Unbelievably, I just found myself walking around the house with a smile on my face. And I was thinking of Honey! My mid didn’t go to that dark place; I think I might be breaking that threshold. I believe healing is happening. Oh my God, I miss her so. But I’m thinking less of her death now and more of her life. ❤

5:09 p.m. – Low again
Is it ludicrous to say I might be dying of heart break? I thought I was better today. I went for about 4 hours without crying. And I was even able to think of Honey and smile. And then it hit me. Boom. Like the plague of death just swept over me and knocked me to the ground with such a force as to paralyze.

This is terrible. I don’t think I can get another animal and go through this again. I can’t do it. My heart is bloody raw right now and it sucks. Oh, God, just take me now.

7:45 p.m. (74 hours)
I went to the grocery store just now to get a couple things. Oh, and also for wine.

Is it bad that I went through a whole bottle of wine in the last three days? I usually nurse the same bottle for a couple months. But there’s something therapeutic about a couple glasses of wine when you’re in mourning. I don’t think it will become a problem. I’ll let you know if I’m still drinking two glasses a night a month from now!

My drive home through my neighborhood was really hard. I passed two of my neighbors walking their dogs who had stopped to chat. Honey had a relationship with both of these dogs. She knew them. They were her friends.

At first sight, I was delighted, and I waved and smiled at them. But as soon as I drove past, the plague gripped me once again and I broke down right there in the car. I’m not sure I’m drinking any more water than usual, so where do all these tears come from? Damn, this sucks. I know it will ease with time, but this is one of those times I’d like to be able to skip over a month of my life without feeling it.

8 p.m. (75 hours) – Goose
I fed my daughter’s dog, Goose, just now. Bittersweet, for sure, but I’m OK. Having Goose around is a double-edged sward, to say the least. On the one hand, it’s a blessing to have him around to pet for those moments when I just need a sweet dog to pet and cuddle. Of course I know it’s not Honey, but there’s something about the act of petting itself that fills that need. On the other hand, Goose is there and Honey is not. It’s a constant reminder every time I see him. Honey is gone.

Honey’s food bowl was always 12 inches off the floor because she is a big dog. And Goose has always eaten from his bowl right on the floor. I thought I’d try moving Goose’s bowl into Honey’s spot but he wouldn’t touch it. I sensed that he must recognize that that is not his bowl but Honey’s. He doesn’t know yet. How could he. He just knows she’s not here. He’s experience her absence before with all the vacations I’ve taken and took her with me.
Of course this is the first time I’ve ever been here at the house and Honey not here. He’ll figure it out soon. I think he is already a little confused by the way he tends to walk to some of the spots she used to occupy. In the meantime, I moved his food bowl back to the floor. The moment I did, he started gobbling it up.

Bless his heart. I love him, too. But again, there’s a rope wound around my entire body, and it just so happens to be tightening up on itself right at this moment. I know I can breathe, but it still feels like I am suffocating.
Damn. I miss Honey.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.