By appointment

Our old dog Bella said goodbye to rather emergently. We knew her time was coming, but we got up that morning like usual, went about our day like usual, and then her time popped up in front of us like an unexpected guest and there it was. The end. We came home blindsided and the house felt surreal. The bottom three feet of every room where something large and furry had roamed felt echoey and empty, but my eyes kept scanning it anyway. Those three feet were eventually occupied by another large and furry creature and the house felt normal again. But his time has come. It hasn’t been long and drawn out and horrible. It has been a month. A steady slide downhill. A diagnosis. The one option of a drug that in best case scenario might have bought us a couple more months, if only he had tolerated it. I made an appointment. Today at 5. I did not get up today like usual. I do not expect the day to end like usual. I know the emptiness that’s coming. I know the wide yawn of time that will greet me tonight, tomorrow, the day after…all that time that has been his for so many years. It is bizarre to know the time at which life will change. To look at him and know I won’t be able to tomorrow. I want to find reasons to cancel, but I look at him and know. It is my pain tomorrow or it is his. The last way I can love him is to choose mine. It was easier being blindsided I think. Somehow being on a schedule somewhere makes it too organized, too objective. Discordant with how it feels. The longest and shortest day, by appointment. Just bizarre.