An Unselfish Choice–I Still Miss You
Jo-Jo, I cannot believe it is exactly two years to the day that I was forced to make a choice between watching you suffer–and selfishly have you in my life–or free you of pain, by having a vet insert a needle into a catheter attached to you and have you fall endlessly asleep while I was caressing you on my lap. During those final moments, I questioned my courage–“was I doing the right thing by forcing you to die?”
In my heart, I know I did the right thing, because you “told” me the night prior. It was during that night that you and I stayed up–all night–sleeping on the floor together (because you were too weak to jump up to the bed). I looked at you and asked for your permission to take you to the vets, and you showed me in your eyes, that it indeed was. I have never felt so sure about anything in my life until that series of events.
That special, unbelievable moment between you and I gave me the resolve to make the mature and unselfish decision. That moment in time is still surrealistic; even though I know I made the right choice, it still hurts immensely. Knowing that you are without pain, is the greatest gift I could give you, and letting you go transferred that pain onto me. Although it has significantly lessened, I know I will miss you until the day we again meet.
I want you to know I walk with you still down at the lake, and you have indeed come to me in my dreams–I still feel you are with me when I am walking in Confederation Park, or spending time a the cottage, or simply when it’s bedtime. I tap my pillow a couple of times, and I feel you are there. Through no fault of there own, I am still jealous of fellow dog owners as I pass them by while going for a walk.
It has been 2 years since I had to say farewell, but, having you buried in the backyard has provided support, as I still am able to feel your presence. I have absolutely no urge or need to have another dog as you are simply irreplaceable. I hope other dog owners out there are able to bond the way we did as you taught me so much, demanded so little, and suffered so that you could spend additional time with me.
I love you.
Until we meet again….
Love, Dad
| Michael Oberfrank |