Saying Goodbye...

We all know that death is an unavoidable part of life. However, when it happens, it’s very difficult to remember that fact. Now I promise I will TRY not to get too emotional during this post, but honestly it can’t really be helped…it’s a very fresh wound. On Thursday 10, November just after midnight, (I was highly intoxicated after a brilliant night with the girls of the Cork Stitch’N’Bitch) I was playing on my computer and watching Elf, when my Skype alerted me that I had an incoming call. I answered, and immediately heard my mother sobbing, and my father, in a very somber tone, said “Cosmo is in heaven.” Now I realize that most of you have no idea who Cosmo is, so here is a little background. Cosmo, or Bob as I ALWAYS called him, was my dog. When I moved to Ireland he stayed with my parents because he was more of a family dog. We got him from the AZ Humane Society, about 6 ½ years ago. After we had adopted him, he was so excited. We were walking him from the Humane Society facility to our truck, and he was peeing all over the footpath…we stopped to allow him to go, but then he stopped, and as soon as we started walking he started peeing again. It was kind of funny, and it became a family joke that he could ‘write his name’. We decided to name him ‘Cosmo’ after the cartoon character from ‘Fairly Odd Parents’ on Nickelodeon. He was named because he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, but he was full of love and affection, despite our suspicions that his previous owners beat him with garden tools.

I have spent the past two days in an emotional tizzy. I hadn’t eaten, I hadn’t really slept, I wasn’t speaking to my husband (or anyone else). Now my husband, being the ‘observant’ (I use that term loosely) man that he is, knew something was wrong, but I refused to tell him what, because I knew it would lead to tears. I was suffering in silence. I was feeling incredibly guilty, wondering if Bob had thought I didn’t care about him because I wasn’t there for him when he died. The pain and guilt was affecting everything I did, I tried making gingerbread, only to fail, and end up in a cookie dough covered heap on the floor crying hysterically for an hour. A friend of mine, who has recently moved away from Ireland, noticed a post on Facebook that was full of anger and frustration, and messaged me immediately. She reminded me to remember Bob, and not mourn for his loss, but to celebrate his life. Bob was a good dog. He was loved very much, and treated like the king of the castle. He had his own chair! He usually had control of whatever bed he lied in, and he and my dad always shared biscuits (cookies) on a regular basis. Now when we got him, he was very skinny and timid. He was fearful of garden tools (rakes, shovels, etc.) so we suspected that he was abused with similar tools. After a few stern (but much needed) words, I decided to change my outlook. Bob had enriched the life of our family, and we had enriched his. He was a blessing to our family, and it was only fair that we end his suffering. I just wish I could have been there for him at the end.

Bob sitting in his favourite chair.

Now for a few good stories about our life with Bob:

Before I moved to Ireland and left my parents home, I remember redecorating my room (why yes, it was done entirely in PINK! How did you know?) and I purchased a shaggy hot pink rug for the floor, it was the final touch. I put it down and was enjoying the pepto-bismol-ness that was my pink room, when Bob wandered in. He sniffed about the rug for a minute…and lifted his leg and proceeded to pee on my brand new rug. Luckily it was a fairly cheap rug, and it was easy to clean. But it was quite funny…I remember being slightly mad at him, but it was just funny. I also remember, about 2 weeks before my wedding, I was SICK…I mean REALLY SICK! I had whooping cough, my asthma was flairing up, I had laryngitis, and the CDC was calling non-stop interrogating my mother about how I had contracted whooping cough. I was in bed for like a week straight. I remember Bob being by my side for the whole week, even though I was doing nothing but sleeping and watching Disney movies…he was there, just hanging out with me.  Anyway, I think I have rambled enough. I just hope that the movie doesn’t lie and that all dogs really do go to heaven. I love you Bob, you were one of the best dogs/friends a girl could have!