Well, that was short lived

"As much time as I can have you for" turned out to be less than 24 hours more. So that sucked.

Today sucked as a whole, actually. 

I spent most of the morning lying on the floor, next to you, stroking your face. I wanted time to slow down, because I am selfish that way, but I also wanted it to pass a little more quickly because I knew how uncomfortable you were.

When they asked me if I was certain, I said yes. "If he was younger... or if he had a few pounds to spare... Or if he didn't have a slew of things going on... but he isn't, and he does," I told them. They reassured me that they thought the choice I'd made was the right one. 

As hard as it is, it's an honour to be with someone or something you love as they take their final breath. It's an honour to be able to say that you loved them right to the very end. As much as my heart broke, I felt relief in knowing he wasn't alone. He knew I was with him. I wouldn't come home to find him cold, on the floor. I was there to hold him and to kiss him, and to tell him it was okay. 

It's weird to think I won't ever stare into his eyes again, or hear his hoarse bark as he waits for me to come bring him in from outside. I won't stroke his muzzle, or scratch him behind the ear. He now exists only in past tense. But, god, did he ever make the time he had here count. 

Hudson LIVED to give me anxiety. There was the time he ate oatmeal raisin cookies that were laced with THC... or the time he ate THC butter... Or the time I came home from work to find that he'd taken not one, but two ciders off my kitchen counter, punctured them with his teeth and drank the contents. There was the time he ate the loaf of onion bread from off of my counter. Then the time I made a loaf of wasabi bread to try to teach him a lesson (it didn't teach him a lesson). Or the time he ate an entire bag full of avocados. 

I have so many memories of him that I hope I never lose... like how he was so used to getting in my car to go places with me that, if a car door opened when we were on a walk, he'd hop inside. There's all the times he scared the shit out of me by either hopping out of the bathtub (when I didn't know he was there) or hopping into the bathtub (when I didn't expect him) at my apartment. There's the first morning we woke up in my house... When I left him outside, only to remember that I should check the gate.. And, sure enough, it was wide open and he'd already gotten out.. only to go right to the neighbours front door and scratch on it. All the times we went camping, when he'd wait at the edge of our site in the hopes that people passing by would stop to pet him. 

My heart is broken, and it will break again, but it is also so full. I am a better person because of my dog. I loved him something fierce. It was a love that took nearly 14 years to get where it was, and it wasn't always smooth, and it was almost always full of frustration... but every single second of it was worth it. Knowing him and getting to love him was worth a million shattered hearts.