A little over a month ago, my family suffered a loss that has affected us deeply and profoundly. Our first dog, Dewey. The best boy. The best looking puggle in the world. The best, period. I did not realize how intense the pain would be. For all of us.

Dewey was with us for 13 years. That’s a long time and yet, not nearly long enough. My kids grew up with him. My son chose him when we decided it was time to get a dog. When I say “we”, it was really “they”, not me so much. I was not on board initially because I knew I’d be the one doing it all. And I was.

Dewey and I got off to a rocky start. Adding dog hair and dog pee to a woman’s home when that woman was obsessive about her house being clean was less than ideal. It didn’t take long, however, for his deliciousness to make me come to my senses.

Dewey changed me. He turned me into a dog mom – a feat that was not easy. He did it though. Holding him would leave hives on my arms, so I took Benadryl, because he was just too snugly. He would sleep on me for hours, and I would let him. I became a contortionist so I could let him sleep on my lap while I put make-up on at the kitchen table. I loved that boy. So much. We all did.

Dewey was getting older and we all knew it. His legs were not as strong, his energy just not there. One thing that didn’t change was his appetite. That boy loved food, all of it. His favorite was chicken. He was an incredible negotiator. He knew if he refused to come inside, we would eventually offer him chicken to get him in. Worked every time.

In the last few months of his life, I felt like something was wrong. He went with his siblings for a vet check-up and was supposedly healthy. Ok. I was not convinced, just a feeling, I guess. He was having stomach issues on and off for a few months. Some chicken and rice would help and he’d be better for a bit, and then he wouldn’t be. Again.

The Thursday before he passed, I was working from home and he was constantly needing to go out, sometimes not making it in time. He went to the vet that afternoon and was diagnosed with colitis, given some pills and we were told he’d feel better in a few days. I remember thinking, no, something is wrong. The colitis is definitely a symptom of something else. Wishing I was wrong, yet knowing I was right. I was not the only one thinking that, but putting it out there was too upsetting.

The meds seemed to help at first. He was a little better. And then he wasn’t. Saturday morning he wouldn’t eat. In 13 years, that had never happened. Never. I was nervous, but figured we’d see what happened later.

When he wouldn’t eat again, I knew. We knew. We decided we’d call the vet on Monday. That night, I cried while asking God to let him go in his sleep because I knew that if we had to take him, well, I didn’t know how we’d survive that.

When I came downstairs Sunday morning, Dewey was still with us. His breathing wasn’t great, but it was there. At some point, within the next few hours, he just stopped breathing. We do not know when he passed. My daughter came down last and when she went to him, like she did every morning, she discovered he was not breathing. He passed so quietly, we did not know.

Devastating does not even begin to describe it. I don’t think any of us has ever cried as much as we did, and continue to.

Why is the pain so intense? I have lost people very close to me, and the pain is unbearable, but this hits differently. I don’t understand it really. I’m sure there are studies on it.

I miss my boy every day. We all do. We each cope differently. Some of us talk about him and to him. We talk about the funny things he did, how much he loved to eat. I know it will get easier, but I was definitely not prepared for how hard it would be. How much I’d wish I could take the pain away for my family while suffering myself.

I have wished that we never made the decision to get a dog all those years ago, knowing what I know now, but the love we all got from Dewey was so beautiful, so unconditional, so pure.

I only hope that he knew how loved he was and how much we will miss him, forever.

Oh my Dewey, I hope you are running around up there and eating all the chicken and treats you want. Heaven sure is lucky to have you.

Until we meet again, my sweet boy…