This is why people believe in God. I want so badly to believe that there’s something on the other side of this life. That I’ll get another chance to see him loping towards me with a tennis ball in his mouth. Another chance to be the owner he really deserved. A chance to get answers about all of it.
My heart is broken right now. It feels like someone reached into my chest, grabbed a piece and won’t give it back. It went exactly as I’d imagined. I threw him some tennis balls and his frisbee for a few minutes when we got to the farm. My mom anesthetized him first. The anesthesia she used typically causes hallucinations and often they look terrifying but even Zef’s hallucinations were happy. First he rolled around on the floor like he was doing the happy dance he did when I gave him a bone, then he lay on his side and was running somewhere. For the actual euthanasia I cradled his head on the table and held his leg so my mom could find the vein like I had done for so many dogs so many times before. He took his last breath in my arms. That was the only time I was silent and without tears. And then I broke down again. And so did M. I don’t think he expected it to be as hard as it was.
I cried all day. I cried all evening. I woke up now in the middle of the night crying again. I’m sitting in the living room because M finally fell asleep and I don’t want to wake him up with my sobs. But even this feels wrong. Zef is supposed to come out from under the bed, give me that What-the-hell-are-you-doing-up-at-this-time-of-night look, and flop on the living room floor to sleep near me.
He showed me how to truly love every moment of life. He was my buddy when I lived in lonely apartments by myself. When I was depressed he would drop a tennis ball in my lap and give me that goofy grin of his and I would be motivated to finally move. He did so much for me and I just gave up on him.