As I sat in the waiting room at the vet’s office, all I could think was, “Am I really here again? Going through this again? Only six short months after losing Ebi?”
Ginger sat on my lap, frail. Shaking. Looking at me with sad eyes. And right next to me was a young couple with a puppy. Maybe 12 weeks old.
I hated them for a minute.
They’re starting a new life and one of mine was ending.
It’s all about life and death, isn’t it? Babies are born every day…and elderly people pass. People get puppies and kittens every day…and someone is faced with the terrible decision of putting their dog or cat down. Every day. We know this. And it doesn’t help.
Do the details matter? Does it matter that Ginger needed surgery? Does it matter that she didn’t recover; that the antibiotics weren’t helping. That she wouldn’t eat. That I was back and forth to the vet every single day for over a week pumping her with fluids and pain medication. That I did everything I could to keep her. Just one more day.
No, the details don’t matter. Cancer got her. Just like Ebi. So insanely healthy for 15 years and then in the blink of an eye, cancer got both of them.
Cancer is such an asshole.
Ginger really wasn’t the same after Ebi died. Something in her sort of checked out a little. Litter mates…like losing a limb, I have no doubt. But she was still precious as ever. Always my needy one. My constant companion. My licker.
But last Thursday, she didn’t have any kisses left for me. And that’s when I knew.
And now they’re both gone. Neither one are here to greet me when I walk through the door. Neither one to sit on the couch with me, or sit on my lap while I type. Just empty beds and vacant leashes.
The silence in the house while the kids are at school is deafening.
I hope they are together again. I hope Ginger is sitting on Ebi’s head. I hope they’re chasing dragonflies. I hope they’re relaxing in the sun. I hope I see them again someday. I hope.
Rest in peace, my sweet girls. You brought joy to my life that you will never know…and you will be with me always.