I’m not usually one to share personal stuff on my simblr, but I have some sad news. My dog

I’m not usually one to share personal stuff on my simblr, but I have some sad news. My dog Dagi passed away. We noticed on Saturday evening that he was restless and having trouble breathing. We took him to the vet on Sunday and got a pretty bleak diagnosis - he had several tumors in his belly so large that they were pressing down on his organs, and more tumors in the lungs. The belly tumors they might have been able to get rid of via surgery, but there was nothing they could’ve done to the ones in the lungs. So with a heavy, heavy heart, I went for the only other option there was. Dagi was put to sleep on Monday, April 4, at quarter to noon. Today would have been his 17th birthday. I’m aware that there is a lot to be thankful for here. He was born into our family and spent his whole life with us; he was loved, coddled and spoiled, and reached a ripe old age for a dog; he held up really well in his twilight years and never lost his appetite, not even in his final moments (he had barbecue the day before the euthanasia, the pig!). As far as dogs go, that’s is about as much as any pet parent could ask for; I did all I could’ve done, and I’m fully aware of that. It’s just… I never realized how heavy his absence would hit me. I’ve had this crooked-pawed lil’ Wiener wannabe for 2/3rds of my existence and he was such a constant presence in my life. He was a family pet, but he’s always been *my* dog, and I was his hooman, his pack leader. Also the only one who knew 100% how to handle him, because honestly, he could be a bit of an ass sometimes. We had some good moments and some bad moments and some funny ones, and like any dog, he showed me what pure, unfiltered, unconditional love looked like. Not having him around anymore feels so weird… almost like I lost a limb, an essential part of myself. When I got back home from the vet’s that day, I caught myself looking around the livingroom for him, although I knew full well he wasn’t there anymore. I realized then that it wasn’t just a pet I lost, but also all the little rituals that we had: cooking the homemande food he loved so much in his senior years; the edible bribes we had to give him to get him to go out into the yard to pee, cause otherwise he’d just pee on the floor; his lil’ head poking around the corner of the couch when I was sitting at the computer and he wanted something; the yellow snout poking my leg when I ate breakfast/lunch/dinner and he wanted a bite. Now that he’s gone, all those small things are gone too, and our home feels that much emptier for it. Incredible how such a small animal could fill up so much space with its mere presence. Time heals most wounds and I’m sure that’ll be the case here, too. The feeling of loss will get dulled eventually and what’ll remain will be all the great memories we made together. I just hope I don’t cry myself into a coma until then. I miss you, lil’ buddy. A yellow dog comes only once and is hisself: brilliant, final, and entire. -- source link

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