Early Friday morning, the sound of tiny foot step kept coming back and forth from my bedside to my husbands. We were use to this noise every morning, a sign of one of our dogs wanting to either eat or go potty. Unfortunately, this was not the case. Grizzly, our youngest dog was attempting to signal us to come and check on his big brother Zeus.
My husbands rushes to the foot of our bed, where they always sleep, to see what the chaos was. We hear two deep and large gasps from Zeus, Lyle attempting to awake him, hoping that he was just dreaming- realized he had just taken his last breathe just then and there.
In panic, I call my mother-in-law (that works with dogs on the daily) to check to see if what we know may be true could not possibly be. I rush over, embracing his warm body, letting the flood of tears onto his lifeless body. My mother-in-law had confirmed, he was gone. The thoughts of wishing I held him a little longer, loved on him a little harder, gave him everything he wanted just sink all in.
A few weeks later, I finally seem to process the truth of what I know is factual, Zeus is not with us. The sound of pattering feet, up and down the hallways, is now silent. The panting of excitement when 6 pm feeding for dinner, is no longer there. The deep and thundrest growl, while scratching his back- sunbathing, is gone. The void truly has settled. Grief that comes in waves find me when I stare at photos of him that have been displayed before his pasting.
In all the midst of grief, I have found comfort in Grizzly and Snow in our morning walks. The solace of the morning crisp air as the sun peeks through the clouds gives me comfort that Zeus is a better place, free from pain, free of his limited body, truly resting in peace. The morning sun feels like a warm greeting I seek every day, just like a warm embrace
We will miss you Zeus, thank you for always filling our arms with so much love. Till meet again on that bright early morning…
