Why do we love our pets so much?
We love them so much because they love us so much. Because they love us so much, and so unconditionally. No matter what we do to them, they never get mad—they just love us.
But pets break our hearts. Pets don’t live as long as we do. They leave us. They move into our homes and our hearts and then they pass on and leave us empty and broken.
My dog Boomer died suddenly Monday. She was thirteen and I had adopted her before I had children. She was essentially my first kid. I took her to the vet because we thought she might be having heart problems. I thought I would be taking her home with some medicine.
I took my kids to get ice cream while I waited for my vet to call to give me the go ahead to pick her up. My vet did call but it was to tell me that my dog had just died. They had tried to revive her, but to no avail.
I waited until my kids had finished their ice cream before I broke the news to them. I kept getting up and leaving using excuse after excuse, so that I wouldn’t cry in front of them.
Finally they finished and I walked them back to the car. On the way I told them. My little boy burst into tears. My older boy was much more stoic, more matter-of-fact. The vet had told me that they had prepared my beloved Boomer so that my family could say good-bye to her.
I asked my boys if they wanted to say good-bye to Boomer and they said yes. We drove to the vet.
We were the most sad, pathetic trio as we approached the room where they lovingly wrapped Boomer in a blanket. Only her face was visible. She looked as though she was sleeping. My boys and I cried and cried and cried. We touched her beautiful face and felt her soft ears. They still felt like velvet and they were sticking up at an angle that they often did while she was sleeping making her look all the more sweet and peaceful.
It was my youngest son who turned for the door first, not being able to stand any more pain. His little heart was aching and he spent most of the next two days in tears. He didn’t want to go to school for fear that he would cry and the other kids would make fun of him. I decided to send him to school after emailing his teacher to tell about our family’s loss. She assured me that she would keep an eye on my son.
My husband and I spent most of the next day digging a hole the appropriate depth for a dog of Boomer’s size. The job turned out to be way harder than either on of us expected. My husband did most of the work and it took him at least six hours.
I picked up eight balloons, one for each member of our family including our two birds and our remaining dog. I chose a pink balloon to represent Boomer and aqua colored balloons for the rest of us.
My husband picked Boomer up at the vet and brought her home. He buried her in a sunny spot in our yard visible from almost every room in the house and then placed a tree on top of her. As the tree grows we will always think of our beloved Boomer.
My husband, my two boys and I each shared our favorite memory of Boomer and then we released the balloons. My idea was to release Boomer’s balloon first and then ours would follow. But my youngest son, who couldn’t bear to separate the balloons, quickly overruled this idea. He said he wanted all our balloons to be together, a fair reflection of the terrible loss he was feeling.
He asked me to tie the balloons together and then let them go. So I tied them together and we all held the balloons together as a family and let go of them together and we watched them until they disappeared into the evening sky.
As the balloons ascended into the sky the funny thing was that all the aqua balloons fought against each other. They pulled and tugged each wanting to go their own direction. But the pink balloon, it just floated straight up, moving steadily and unwavering up to it’s destination.
I thought how like our family that is, crazy and tumultuous and each going our different ways. But then there is Boomer, always there always loving, always peaceful always steady and unwavering.
Boomer, we will miss you.
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