Am I the Only One?

I know Dolce has passed away, but I still call out his name from time to time.  Does that seem strange?  Am I the only one that does that?  In a way calling out his name gives me comfort, and on some level I secretly hope that he will come walking down the hall to greet me.  It all happened so fast.  Dolce was doing so great until that last week.  We had one bad week and he was suddenly gone, and now I am forced to come to a place of acceptance.  I hope I am not alone in still calling out my deceased pet's name.

Dreaming of Dolce

I just woke up from the most amazing dream; so amazing I need to stop and write it all down before I forget.  Let me set the scene up first.

Last night I cried pretty hard before falling asleep.  It's been getting easier for me to get through longer periods of time without crying.  When I do cry I feel a tiny bit better, like I'm letting it out.  Last night, I cried because I miss Dolce and because it seemed so unfair that I was given the most amazing gift (Dolce) and loved him so intensely and then lost him, all within a year and a half.  I was (and I still am) mad because it feels like I was gypped.  I gave all that I had, and then lost him.  I am aware how selfish I sound.  It is obviously the grief talking, which I have come to realize is the most selfish emotion I've ever experienced.   I also cried because of how angry I am at the person or persons that had Dolce before me.  They had no idea what an amazing little guy they had and instead wasted time, abused Dolce and neglected him, which all lead to my time with him being greatly shortened.  The short of the long is that I hurt and it is unfair.  I always felt our time would be short, so on some level his passing comes as no surprise, but accepting that the time we were given was sufficient or accepting that he is gone is not something I am capable of yet.

Back to setting the scene...

I had trouble sleeping last night.  I woke up several times throughout the night, but each time eventually fell back asleep.  Finally at 6am I thought I may as well try to fully wakeup, but I didn't have the energy or heart to get out of bed.  Mornings have been hard for me since Dolce passed.  My morning was always filled with Dolce.  Getting up each morning has been hard, because my purpose each morning is no longer there.  For about 25 minutes I kept shifting and turning, rearranging my limbs until I found a favorable sleeping position and I fell back asleep.  The strange thing is that for me, I rarely fall asleep and dream after being as awake as I had been.  

On to the dream...

In my dream I was in bed, probably just about in the same position I was in while I was sleeping.  I was  laying in my bed thinking about Dolce and how much I missed him when I felt a small dog walking on my comforter and resting on my chest.  In my dream I recognized the pressure and thought that perhaps it was Dolce visiting me again.  I should also point out that last Friday after another late-night cryfest I woke up to what felt like one of my dogs walking across the bed.  I looked over and saw both Rico and Chico asleep and I felt Brownie near my feet.  None of them had been walking across the bed.  Of course it was the middle of the night and I was not fully awake, so there is the chance that I made the whole thing up or it could have been a dream, which is why I didn't really share it with anyone.  In fact it took me a few days before I shared the story with Brett.  So in the dream I slowly placed my hand on my chest and immediately felt Dolce's fur.  I should point out that I am a habitual under the covers sleeper, (there is no other way for me) when combined with my thick down comforter it would be very easy for me to sleep and not see which dog or if any dog was on top of my chest.  Just wanted to clarify. Once I felt his fur I began petting him, stroking his fur like I always did and rubbing his little chest.  Eventually I pulled my down comforter out of the way and I saw that Dolce was really there, in real physical form.  I was so happy.  I think I even cried.  I told him how much I missed him and love him.  This is where the dream is beginning to fade.  Eventually the dream began to morph into something else, but Dolce was in it, with me until I woke up.  The most amazing part of the whole experience is the fact that within my dream I was aware of Dolce's passing and the emotions I have been feeling were within my dream.  It was like my conscious-self was given the opportunity to spend time with Dolce in the dream-world, my subconscious.   

Timehop

Each morning I receive an email from TimeHop, a free service sending daily email reminders of what you were doing 1 year ago on that day.  I've attached my twitter and Facebook accounts and love seeing and remembering where I was 1 year ago to the day.  It is a great way to reminisce, to realize how far you've come since that time, or to just have a good laugh.

Today my Timehop included details on taking my pack of 4 (Rico, Chico, Dolce and Brownie) to the Huntington Dog Beach for the first time.  What a great memory.  I had wanted to take Brownie and Dolce to the beach because I was sure they had never been before, and Rico and Chico love the beach. I wanted all of them to have a great day, to have as much fun as possible, and for all of us to be together.  At the time I found the outing to be somewhat stressful and not great for me (Brett would agree), but the dogs had the best time.

I remember feeling all I wanted was to give Dolce as many experiences as possible, well good experiences.  So when I could, I took Dolce out and tried my best to help him feel loved and like he was living the life of a spoiled little pup.

This morning after reading my Timehop email I mentioned to Brett that 1 year ago I never would have thought that a year from that point Dolce would be gone.  Brett is so good to me, he helps bring me down to Earth and reminds me when I'm being irrational.  He reminded me of how I continually said that I felt like Dolce only had a year left in his life.  Brett was/is right.  I always felt like our time together would be short, and I wanted to jam as many amazing experiences and outings as I could into the time we had.  I am so glad that we took the time to give him those experiences.  It was so worth it!  And most of all, I think I needed it.  

I am so thankful that during my life with Dolce I did a good job of being present, not all the time, but a majority of the time.  I recognized when amazing moments were happening, and with some slight fear of being thought of as doggie-obsessed and socially unacceptable, I utilized social media to document them.  So many times during my journey with Dolce I remember thinking that I was witnessing something beautiful and something that I would want as a lifelong memory.  This is where I start crying as I type.  It's amazing how we don't want to forget in the moment.  But once the moment is gone and all that is left is the memory, the memory doesn't seem to be enough.  Memories will never be tangible enough for my liking.  Reading back on my documented memories with Dolce gives me some comfort, after all, it is all I have left.

If there is any major take away from life with Dolce it is that time is fleeting and all we can do is try our best to present and mindful of the moments taking place.  Document them, photograph them, do whatever you can to preserve those moments.  At some point those moments will mean the world to you.

July 23, 2011 as posted on Facebook: Had a great afternoon with the dogs at the Huntington Dog Beach.  My bed is littered with sleeping dog bodies...perfection.

July 23, 2011 as posted on Twitter: http://twitpic.com/5up1zd

Comfort in Friends...

Watching Friends, and yes, that is Dolce's stroller on the side.

Whenever I am going through a really hard time I watch the tv show Friends from beginning to end.  After my dad died I came home from spending time in California (I lived in Kansas at the time) and began my first Friends marathon.  When I had my car accident last year I started my Friends marathon again. In fact, after I had my car accident last year I was really depressed.  I stayed home from work for 4 or 5 days and during those days I spent my time in bed with Rico, Chico, Brownie and Dolce watching Friends.  This was the first time that Dolce really spent a lot of time with me and the rest of the dogs as a bonded family.  It was also the beginning of Dolce sleeping in the bed with us.  I loved Dolce before my car accident, but the time we spent napping and watching Friends in bed was really the point in which I believe we truly became a family.  Now when I look back on that time I recognize that through a difficult and upsetting experience I found true love and my little family became complete.    I think for the rest of my life when I watch a Friends marathon I will think back on how it played a major role in my relationship with Dolce.  Friends and Dolce will forever be connected and intertwined in my memory.

All 4 dogs sleeping in the bed during our Friends marathon (April 2011)

The day after Dolce passed away I started my Friends marathon.  In some ways I feel like Friends comforts me, but also it gives me a break from life.  Right now I am having a hard time returning to a routine.  I purposely do things differently, or I don't fully get myself ready in the morning for work because I'm not ready to start living again.  Right now I'm not ready to watch TV, my life has come to an abrupt stop since losing Dolce and I'm not ready to carry on like I'm not missing a high chunk of my life.  Friends gives me the opportunity to take a break and not force myself to move on before I am ready.  As I type this I am watching the beginning of Season 5, Monica and Chandler just decided to move in together.  Maybe I will feel ready to start getting back to a routine when I finish the show, and maybe I won't, but for now I'm hoping that my pain will lessen, and if not, that's okay.

Desperation

I am so frustrated...frustrated to the point of tears.  Rico is not doing well at all, and there is nothing I can do for him.  He is terrified, and refuses to act like himself.  I yelled at him tonight out of frustration, desperation and because I'm hurting too.  I'm mad at myself.  I'm mad at Rico for acting the way he is.  And I'm even more angry with the universe/nature/God (whatever you want to call it) and Dolce because my dogs and I have been left behind and forced to pick up the pieces.  I hate death.  It is utterly cruel and unfair for those that are left behind.

There will be a cost...

7/17/10 Today is the first day I am coming back to work.  I've tried on two other occasions and was unable to last more than an hour without completely falling apart.  I can't believe that Dolce passed away a week ago today.  I can't believe time has moved so quickly.  Sorry for the inset thought there...just had to get it out.  I got to work and found a card on my desk signed by many of my coworkers saying how sorry they are for my loss.  It was a nice gesture, it made me tear up, but it also hit a sore spot for me.  It really hurts me when people belittle my feelings because I am grieving over Dolce or don't understand why me grief is so intense.  I guess the person that wrote the specific note that I'm thinking of didn't know my story with Dolce, so how can I expect them to understand.  But word to the wise, if you ever encounter a person that has lost a pet and is taking the loss hard, please never tell them to go out and find another dog to love.  Or that you and that new dog will have a love bond stronger than the former.  The point is that in these situations it feels like most people do not understand.  Probably because they have not gone through it.

A lot of times when I am going through a difficult time or I am experiencing a challenge I remind myself that the best things in life never come easy.  How often do we achieve something or finally get something without really being challenged and working for it.  Would it be as good if we had not struggled and fought?  The point I am making is that life seems to be filled with challenges and sacrifices.  We're never able to have it all.  I wonder if there is a universal rule we're unaware of, something that states we can have pure beauty and perfection and pure love, but there will be  cost.  If your think about it, it seems plausible.  Like the love of an animal, I believe it to be one of the cleanest and purest form of love, but unfortunately it comes with a sacrifice.  We can experience this love, but we must be willing to accept that it will not be forever.  It will not last a lifetime, and it will never feel like the time was enough.  For mothers with children (of the two-legged persuasion) I hear them talk about how fast time goes by, and how they hate seeing their baby growing up.  They want to hold on to those moments.  They are given the purest, cleanest form of love, but they cannot have it forever.  Eventually the child grows up, and although there is still love, it is not as it once was, when there was all encompassing love and complete acceptance.  That is the incredible beauty in animals.  They accept you just as you are.

So often throughout our lives we are told we are not enough.  We walk around feeling inadequate, not feeling comfortable in our skin, or feeling like we need to become a better or accepted version of ourselves.  We put on makeup, we try to drop the pounds or maintain a specific weight, we want to appear as something more desirable...and all the while our animals accept us with no hesitation, just as we truly are.  So why am I expected to keep it together or to grieve less when I lose a true friend that loved me through the good, the bad, the not so pretty and the not so socially acceptable times?  For me, my dogs provide me with a sense of purpose and self-worth that I was incapable of having without them in my life.  I believe this self-worth and purpose is similar, if not identical to how a mother feels.  I understand that I have self-worth so its not based solely on my dogs, but they reflect back to me that I am enough, and most importantly my love is enough.  My animals have helped me become whole again.  They aided me in tearing down and taking way the power of the the terrible negative voices in my head.  What I have learned from my dogs, and especially Dolce is that I am perfect in my imperfections.  I was able to love him, to accept him, to overlook his hardened soul, his soiled matted fur, his injuries, his overworked little heart.  I was able to mirror back to him what animals have always done for me.  Through my dogs I have learned that I am enough.  And through learning that I was enough Dolce finally learned he was not just enough, he was perfect as he was.

I believe animals are placed on Earth to both learn lessons themselves and teach lessons to us simple-minded humans.  And yet it seems so cruel that we are given such amazing gifts embedded with a guarantee of eventual loss.  Maybe the point is that eventually the lessons will be learned and the reason for the connection will no longer be necessary.  That sentence sounds cruel, cold and callus.  For me, I feel like Dolce was necessary to me.  I needed him.  I need him now.  However, in all honesty, he taught me so much, he opened my heart in a way that I didn't know I was capable.  I learned my lessons.  I am a better person because of him.  I can imagine that for Dolce our relationship was no longer necessary.  I believe he knew it.  He knew it was time to move on.  He recognized that our relationship was divided into 3 periods: 1) trying to get him healthy, 2) loving him and teaching him to love, 3) and finally enjoying life together, loving each other and being happy.  For me, I know in my brain that I do not need Dolce, but in my heart all I feel is that I need him.

Animal Grief

Since losing Dolce my pack has gone from 4 to 3, and the loss is very apparent to them.

Unlike the other two, Chico has been a stable figure in our pack, really keeping it together.  Of course this doesn't surprise me; after all, Chico and Dolce kind of had a dual leadership role in our house.  They were the more respected of the four, and the others recognized that you don't mess with them.  Chico has always been a caretaker, before Dolce came to live with us, and after, and he is continuing to fulfill that role.  He tends to the other dogs, cleaning their eyes (even Dolce's when he was still with us), and when he sees me crying over Dolce he almost immediately comes to my side and tries to clean away my tears.  I honestly feel like Brett and Chico are the glue keeping us together right now.

For the first week following Dolce's passing Brownie grieved pretty hard.  She slept on the couch away from me, she needed her space to mourn.  She wanted almost nothing to do with the outdoors and did not eat much.  I was worried about how she would do in the kitchen during the day without Dolce, and there was some validity to that concern.  The first time I left her for more than 30 minutes she destroyed the screen on the kitchen door by ripping it from the door and chewing holes through it.  It was painfully obvious that her first time without Dolce was cause for severe anxiety, as she had returned to attempting to breakout out of her enclosed space.  We have since begun placing Rico and Chico with her in the kitchen during the day.  They are not very happy about it, considering they are accustomed to lounging about my bed and/or the couch all day, but I am hopeful that such close proximity to Brownie will help Brownie and also create a stronger bond between the three.  Another difficulty for Brownie is when I watch a recent video I had made of Dolce.  For me, I need the video.  It is like having the ability to see him alive, just as I remember him and most importantly, whenever I want.  For Brownie, it is a heartbreaking reminder of what she has lost.  When I watch the video I see her become visibly upset.  Her ears perk up then back, a look of confusion washes across her face, and she searches the house for him.  It is so devastating to see her like this, mostly because I know just how she feels.  I too feel like if I look long enough, of course I will find him, because this just cannot be reality.  I guess the only solution is to watch the video where she cannot hear it.  It is not fair for me to continue to hurt her by playing it within her earshot.

Surprisingly to me Rico has really had a hard time with Dolce's passing.  The first week he acted normal, like he noticed no difference.  But from the beginning of this week it seems like reality has begun to sink in for him.  He has been terrified and stressed all week.  He constantly wants to be held and comforted, and if I am too busy to hold him he hides.  He hides in the cabinet holding towels in the bathroom, he hides in the backyard (never so well that I cannot find him), and he hides in the farthest back, darkest corner of the closet in my bedroom, and when I try to get him out he cries.  He is constantly panting and seems genuinely worried that he will lose Brett or I.  I suppose he thinks hiding is the only safe alternative if he cannot be with us.

I feel so bad for my dogs.  Losing Dolce has been hard for all of us, not just me, and I don't know what I can do to help them.  If you have any suggestions for what we can do for them, please let me know.

A New Beginning

I'm starting this blog as an extension of Dolce's life (dolcedoggie.blogspot.com).  This blog, Crazy Dog Lady Sierra, will follow me as I move through the grieving process of losing Dolce, as I tend to the needs of my pack (going from 4 to 3 has not been easy on them either), and as I experience life as a open-hearted lover of all living beings (but most often they are dogs).

Please feel free to offer me advice, or suggestions, or just words of encouragement.  I'm really starting this blog as a way to find others that have similar experiences, or understand specific feelings I am having and can help me.  Of course, I hope to help others as well, but right now as I start this blog, I am looking to find an outlet and to be able to purge myself of the overwhelming emotions and thoughts I continue to have.  One of the problems I experience with grief and loss is the sense of loneliness and feeling of not having anyone to share it with.  Of course I have Brett, and anyone who doesn't know who Brett is, will soon.  He is my boyfriend/domestic partner, best friend, voice of reason and support system.  Right now as I deal with my grief I share with Brett my thoughts and how I am feeling, but I worry that eventually he will be tired of hearing it.  Of course he has in no way demonstrated that he will become tired or frustrated by my grief, but I do worry about it.  I hope this blog will serve as a safe place for myself and others to share advice, feelings and thoughts.

And please bear with me.  I struggle with patience and going back and rereading my posts usually is something I dread or avoid.  If I make a mistake, let me know and I'll fix it.  But please treat this blog as a positive forum.  Please no bashing or negative comments directed at me or anyone else leaving comments.