It sure is hard to watch Thunder age lately. She’s really getting old. It’s a weird paradox, like slow motion or something. Some days it seems like just yesterday she was zipping around under our feet, marathon swimming for a stick on a camping trip, or pestering us for belly rubs. Other days it feels like she’s been old for a long time.
I hear myself say to others how hard Thunder’s passing will be on Rafa – she’s a daddy’s girl, and Rafa’s never lost a pet before – but the truth is, as that inevitable day gets closer, I’m afraid. I realize that I too brought Thunder into our home when she was a puppy of three months. I have raised, fed and nurtured her, it was me who took her to the dog park, and it’s me who takes her to the vet, and who gives her the old age meds. I’m Thunder’s mom.
Losing a loved one is a bitter pill to swallow in life. Loving comes with that pain. I’m too old to shut down, just for knowing that, and will always keep my heart open and welcome the pain that comes down the pike. I need love and I have to learn live with the pain, over and over, for my life without the joy of love, wouldn't be worth living.