Awake at 11:30 pm last night, reliving Tray's seizure two weeks ago to the day and hour, and then finally slept in a pool of tears. Awake again at 2am, reliving the debate of euthanizing, two weeks ago to the day and hour. Never slept again last night as 3am arrived, time of his death, which tore my heart out anew. My perfect dog has been gone two weeks and I feel like it's me that's dying for two weeks. Tray was my heart dog whose presence has gotten me through the past 3 years of huge challenges: my cancer survival, Tray's brother's death, Rocky, due to cancer, deaths of two friends and 13 weeks ago, the death of my father. Now I hug a pillow and pretend. My husband doesn't relate to grief of this level so I try to spare him and hold my meltdowns for when he's not home. In some ways I admire his practicality and his awareness and acceptance of the impermanence of all life. I only know those things and do not feel them or live them. I want Tray back in my life and that is all I feel. I'm grateful to have found this group of people sharing their feelings and wisdom about surviving a loss of a precious, innocent, gift of this world, our fur babies. Though actually in some ways my grief is amplified because I don't want any of us to suffer. But as someone once told me, "if you want to avoid suffering, you're on the wrong planet." I wouldn't give up my life with Tray for anything, so I guess I just have to suffer through this huge loss and chasm in my heart.