We said goodbye to my best friend last week—not unexpected since she’d been dealing with kidney disease for a few years, and yet still shocking and unexpected. Particularly since the symptoms that led to her ending seemed more related to issues of back and neck pain that wouldn’t resolve. Granted, kidney failure affects the body in a variety of ways, so perhaps the pain was all related. But her discomfort was clear—panting, pacing, whimpering in pain when she sat the wrong way, not wanting to leave her dog bed. She had been on meloxidyl, gabapentin, a muscle relaxer, and a steroid with only minimal changes in her demeanor. Eventually it became clear that we were approaching the end of her life, and I made arrangements for a vet to come to the house to help her transition.

Spence and I rarely left her side in the days leading up to her last. We sat in silence, petting her, reminiscing, crying, laughing. The night before, I slept on the floor with her for part of the night. She never left my side when I needed her over the past 12 years, and I was going to do the same for her.  When I was so ill with Covid, she was my nursemaid throughout, leaving only to eat and use the bathroom. Spence took one of my favorite pictures during this time (though I didn’t know it because I was sound asleep): I’m in bed, looking like a corpse because I’m so pale, and Jojo is sitting next to me, looking expectantly over her shoulder at Spence’s camera. 

In her last moments, Spence fed her her favorite treats and she gobbled them down before falling asleep under the anesthesia and snoring just like she would when she fell asleep on the couch. We snuggled her and patted her and thanked her for being our friend as she drifted away from us.

_{Lucy and Jojo in December 2024.}

The grief that followed has been all encompassing. She was the bright ball of joy and energy in our lives for 12 years and now she’s gone. I’ve been surprised at how angry I feel. Having the ability to release her the way we did was the best possible scenario for her situation and we knew saying goodbye to her was inevitable, yet I am so angry and tender and hurt, and I feel snappish and mean. I feel angry that we lose everyone in this life. That life is beautiful and we lose everything. In Buddhism, we try to face this head on by sitting in silence and meditating. And I’m able to be mindful from day to day that these people and critters around me won’t be here forever. But when the time comes to say goodbye, to live through the reality of these lines from the Five Remembrances: All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature of change; there is no way to escape being separated from them…well, it is difficult and painful and shattering and makes me angry.

And now the house feels quieter and I feel lonelier. We still have Lucy Magoosey, but it’s weird to have her without Jojo because it’s always been the two of them. And we have George the cat. But it will take adjusting. And eventually the memories will bring more smiles than tears.  And there are so, so many good memories.