One hundred and twenty-two days without Bandit.
by littlemissfuneral
Not that I’m counting, or anything.
Because believe me, I’m doing okay. I’m really doing pretty okay. But I do have the days when I don’t do okay. It’s odd, because I never see it coming. And the sadness normally overwhelms me at night. I miss having Bandit as my blanket when I sleep. I miss hearing him snoring. I miss him waking me up every hour in the middle of the night to go outside.
In case you missed it, I got married last month. So it’s been very good for me to be living in an environment that Bandit never occupied. It’s a fresh start. But when I go back home to my parent’s, I still look for him at the top of the steps. And the first place I go is to my old room, where I have his urn safely on my bed; his favorite spot.
But my heart still holds sadness.
The first time I noticed that my parent’s removed his food dishes I had a mini-fit. I know that they couldn’t stay there forever, but his dishes proved to me that Bandit was there. It was really hard to see them go. It’s hard to let Bandit go.
My husband keeps telling me that next year we can get a dog. And a part of me really wants to have that unconditional fur-baby love back into my life. But another part of me just isn’t ready. It’s a process and I’m getting through it. Day by day.
One hundred and twenty-two days later I’m laughing more at the memories. Going through his pictures I can smile at my goofy boy rather than cry over my loss. It’s a journey and I’m traveling through it.
I’ve been going through those tough times with losing Baby. I’m hoping it gets easier. I agree that it’s the hardest at night. I sometimes think I hear him meowing at my door to get in. It’s hard when I open it and see nothing.
I love my little rat terrier “Chylie” and he has captured my heart…thank you for sharing.
beautifully said – thank you for sharing this – doing okay is okay, and i find that some days even those no okay days are still okay.
How could anyone NOT miss that precious face??!? (And I’m not a dog person!) Losing a beloved pet is losing a part of your family. When the therapy dog at the funeral home where I work died (I’m a Life Celebrant) we had a Life Celebration for him…and 0ver 100 people showed up, some bringing their own dogs. Four months is not very long on the grief journey; but I’m glad that you’re moving in the process. My condolences in your loss.