The sad news is that when I arrived back home after a very exhausting 24hours plus train and car travel, I found my beloved dog friend called Daisy in a very bad state of health. She had some nasty thromboses which needed to be removed in an operation. She was operated on the day after my return. The operation went without complications, my mom and I were waiting for the doc to finish and take her back home with us. Suddenly the doc showed up, asking us to follow him into the operation room. There she lay on the table, tubes in her mouth, a big scar on her shaven stomach, unconscious. The monitor showed arhythmic heartbeat. And as I as I stood there, hands on her struggling body, she faded away. Her heart stopped beating.
The doc gave her two adrenaline shots right into her tired heart. No reaction. He tried to re-animate her. No success. She was gone. And didn't intend to come back. Helplessly, I watched her die under my hands, my heart was broken. Daisy was ten years old, she came to our family when I was eleven. We had a very special connection, she was my little darling, my baby, my sister, my best friend. She meant the world to me and she always will.
My grief was very, very intense right after her death. We took her lifeless body home with us and laid her on her bed in our living room. I lied down next to her, unwilling to say goodbye just yet, crying a river of sorrowful tear drops. My mom was there with me, crying because of the loss of such a wonderful being. The world would be lonely without her. We buried her in our garden, her head facing east, to the rising sun. White roses grow above her now, a sphere made of white stone marks her grave, saying 'unforgotten' - and that she always will be.
When you grief, you either lose your appetite and eat less or you try to numb yourself out emotionally in order to 'protect' yourself from the pain. I found myself doing an unintentional 24 hour fast and eating comparatively little the past few days. Processing such intense emotions demands a good deal of nerve energy of the body. Sleep is really important. Sitting with my feelings, as painful as they may be, is the best thing I can do for now. And as I invite the pain and feel deeply into it, it fades away slowly, but gradually, and leaves me feeling grateful for my life, the amazing beings in it and the wonderful time I spent with Daisy. I am really lucky that I knew her, I am forever-grateful for the special connection I had with her. Thank you for enriching my life, Daisy. You will always be in my heart. Rest in Peace. I love you.
