Please know how much I love you. Please know I always will.
by littlemissfuneral
I guess this is where I should tell you to stop reading. This post breaks my heart. You probably don’t want to read this post. And if you continue to read this post, remember, I gave you fair warning.
I remember is was cold outside. And dark. An evening in early December of 1999. My dad got lost and had to pull over to a house and ask to use the resident’s phone. This was the age before cell phones. I was nine. I was excited. I wanted to cry out in happiness.
When we finally got to our destination, it was so black outside I couldn’t see. A lady took me and my family into a back room. The first thing I remember is the smell. They have a distinct smell. I called “Here puppy, puppy, puppy!” and he came to me. I like to think that he chose me. I was in love from that moment. I was in trouble.
I named him Bandit Zock Polanski. (his middle name was actually pronounced “Jacques” I thought I was French when I was nine.) But he was mostly my Bandy Boy. My baby.
He was crazy. He was full of life. He was odd. My family thought that we had the dumbest dog in the world when he couldn’t even learn how to ‘sit’. But we soon learned that we had the smartest dog in the world when he learned how to get food off of the kitchen counter. He played us. And we fell for him. When I think of Bandit I think of the word ‘love.’ He was a passionate dog when it came to our family. He loved to cuddle and kiss. He loved to feel the warmth of your body curled up next to his. He thought he was a person. He was our little fur person. The baby of the family.
This is the post I always knew I would write and yet prayed that I never would have to. No one lives forever. No matter how much you love them. It’s been eight days without Bandit. That’s how I measure my days.
Eight days without him.
I think what I miss most is his warmth. My legs are so cold when I sleep because he’s not sleeping on me.
He was sick. But we thought he would get better, because he always had. On the way to the vet I lifted him up so his head was sticking out of the backseat window. I wanted him to feel the wind.
I held him in my arms the entire time. I never let go. My mom stood by his head, looking into his eyes.
We didn’t want him to be scared.
I never saw my dad cry before.
He went so fast. They say that they go peacefully, but it was just fast. They say it doesn’t hurt them, but how do they know? It hurt me. It still does. A piece of my heart is missing. I can’t stop crying.
Bandit died in his favorite blanket. We wanted him to smell home. We wanted him to feel safe. I wrapped his body in his blanket afterwards. The vet put him on a stretcher and I walked besides him. I am proud of myself, because I never left him. Even when I wanted to run and hide, I didn’t leave my boy, not for a second.
I kept thinking how strange it was. It was so human. Bandit, dead. Bandit’s body, on a stretcher. The vet placed him in my arms as I sat in the backseat of the car. And this time, we were on our way to the pet funeral home.
I kept kissing his head. I kept petting him. His nose was still cold and wet. I told him how much I loved him. How he was such a good boy. He needed to know how much we all loved him. I hope he knew how much we all loved him.
At the funeral home, my mom said goodbye to Bandit in the car. She didn’t want to go in. So it was just me and my dad. The funeral director took Bandit from my arms and walked into a different room. It was surreal. I was finally on the other side. I signed paperwork. I picked out an urn. And then we saw him one last time. The funeral director escorted me and my dad into a little room. Bandit was in a little doggy bed, with a different blanket wrapped around him. He looked like he was sleeping. He looked just like my baby. I kissed him again. I told him to be a good boy and watch the house, and to remember that I love him. And I asked for him to wait for me up there.
I am grateful for so many things. I’m grateful for fourteen beautiful years with my dog. I’m grateful that he taught me how to love with all my heart. I’m grateful for all the smiles he brought to my family. And I’m grateful that I could be there with him when it was time to say goodbye.
But my heart still hurts. The house is so quiet. I get up and I look for him. When I get home from work I expect him to be sitting at the top of the stairs waiting for me.
Home doesn’t feel like home without Bandit.
I know in time my heart will heal. I know sooner, rather than later, I’ll be able to laugh at the memories rather than cry. But it’s fresh. It’s grief. I need to go through it.
I sleep with Bandit’s urn in my bed. Because that was his favorite spot. He can’t keep me warm anymore, but I can keep on loving him.
I miss you baby. I’ll see you at the Rainbow Bridge.
They become more than family.. Deepest condolences..:(
well written, as usual, Laur. Just think of this …and concentrate on it, only 67 days til you marry the love of your life, (he’s a great catch, if I do say so myself) ! and soooo handsome! (I think he looks like his mom!) ICMU ! Then you will be kept warm by him every night for the rest of your life! Its a wonderful thing that you have such an incredible event to look forward to, so soon! Its very exciting! This is how I think you should start counting your days now. Up to a sweet, sweet future ! That’s just my opinion though! Love You !
So sorry 😦 I know how much it hurts to lose your dog you’ve had since childhood. I had a little beagle-mix for 15 years while I was growing up and I still miss her. I can tell by your photos that Bandit had a great life with you!
you were right now I am crying for the both of you. So sorry for the family and we know the pain. When Ryan lost the dog I thought he would never get over her. Yes I know they are dogs but they become part of you family. I am truly so sorry for you.
Lauren, I swore I would not read this as soon as I saw Bandits picture, but I could not help myself. As hard as this was for you to share it deserved to be read. Yes, I cried, and yes I am still crying as I write. Dogs and cats, they give you unconditional love, they protect you and would give their life for you and all they ask for in return is love. So simple really, feed them, and love them. I am without a doubt certain that Bandit knew and felt the love your family had for him. It could never hurt like this had you not. I feel badly for all of you, and you may know nothing lives forever, but that doesn’t mean you stop hoping they do! So very sorry for your loss.
[…] Eight Days Without Bandit. […]
Reblogged this on Writing Out Loud and commented:
One of the toughest things in the world, saying goodbye to someone we love.
First of all , I’m very sorry for your loss. I stll recall, as if yesterday, losing my dog “Happiness” when I was seven. Over 45 years ago. You know you will heal with time. Cherish your memories. Loser at the funeral homer…loser. Peace. – Michael
So sorry for your loss. I know its heartbreaking since we have endured it many times. We always have had pets and always will. They need us as much as we need them.There are so many that are alone and sad. My husband and I believe pets are angels and that they do go to heaven. We also believe if pets could talk, they would ask us to share our love once more.
This is a beautiful tribute.
Hi Lauren,
I just wanted to say how sorry I am that Bandit passed. I could tell how much he meant to you just from reading your sweet posts about him over the past few years. I’d like to commend you on the bravery of your post and your ability to tackle those difficult emotions with your writing. This really hit home for me, as I lost my cat of 15 years about a month ago and I really related to everything you said, especially the part about still expecting to see him in the house. I tried writing about the pain of losing my cat but had a lot of trouble bringing myself to finish the piece. After reading your beautiful tribute to Bandit it really makes me want to go back now to do that now. As painful as it is, writing it down really helps with the healing.
When my cat passed, my sister said something that will always stick with me that I just wanted to share with you too. She said there may be many animals will come into your life and take up room in your heart, but there is a deeper connection you experience with animal that literally grew up alongside you. That is your soul animal, always and forever.
Thank you again for sharing & take care, Lauren.
❤ Jess Fowler
I just found your page and wanted to thank you. I’m about to become a director myself and have ways had a harder time with pet deaths than human ones. I was away at school a year ago when my special needs kitty died. I knew he was sick but didn’t say goodbye. I drove home just to take care of his cremation the day after his bladder had burst. I stroked his fur up until I handed him to the woman at the cremation center. I wanted to get a vital pendant to keep him close to my heart. It got easier as time passed, but reading this made me realize that my grief is nowhere close to being resolved. Maybe it never will be and that’s okay. I’m happy to cry for my boy tonight. I know he’s where he needs to be and I was lucky to have him for the short time that I did. He made our lives that much more special with the gift of his presence and no one can ever take that away.
It gets better sweetheart, it really does.