Friday was two weeks without my pekingese, Buffy.
I just received her ashes back from the vet today.
The house feels a little less empty.
Although each day gets a little easier, I feel it's only because I have blocked out my pain and am not dealing with it. The first few days without her were terrible. I felt empty, lost, alone. I cried a lot, but then I just stopped. I pushed the emptiness out of my chest and refused to deal with it.
I have been afraid to think about it anymore because I am afraid that I would let the guilt of having to put her to sleep overwhelm me and it's blocked any of the other feelings out. As soon as I feel anything start to creep up, I push my thoughts elsewhere.
The house feels empty and too quiet. There are no little nails clicking on the floor, no pants echoing in the air.
I still feel like I need to be taking her outside to pee and feeding her her meals every morning and evening. I still catch myself thinking I need to check on her while I'm in the kitchen, to make sure she hasn't gotten stuck in a corner somewhere in the house.
I am 25 years old and Buffy was 16 when we put her to sleep.
I don't remember what life was like before her.
I work in a pet store and am constantly bombarded by new dog toys, leashes, bowls, and dogs themselves.
It is difficult to be constantly reminded that I am no longer a dog parent.
I think this is why I have just shoved any emotion out of my body because if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to do my job every day.
