The Good, The Bad, And The…GAWD, When Will She Stop Complaining?!?

First, the bad: 

Today marks one year since we had to put our Boston Terrier, Tiger, to sleep.

I wrote about him in my last post.  For some reason, he’s an integral part of my IF journey.  As I mentioned, when I came home from our canceled IUI he literally crawled on my lap and curled himself into a tight little ball of black and white fur.  This was totally out of character for him. He was a stubborn, self-sufficient, grumpy old man who did not like affection lavished on him, nor did he particularly like to cuddle up with BeBop or me.  But for some reason, whenever I was desperately unhappy he could tell, and always did his best to comfort me.

He was an older dog when we adopted him, sadly we only had three years with him.  But after only a few days, I could not imagine my life before he came into our home.  And after he died, I simply could not imagine life without him, he was such a source of light and happiness and humor and love that I could not envision how I would go on and ever be happy again.

I so empathize with Reality, who is dealing with the recent loss of her doggie, Sunshine.  I received a beautiful, touching e-mail from her this morning, acknowledging this sad anniversary and I wrote back to thank her, mentioning that even BeBop hadn’t said anything about what a hard day this might be for me – husbands!  Can’t live with ’em, can’t hobble ’em with a dull butter knife when they piss you off!  Well, I guess you could, but then who would help carry the groceries from the car?

I wrote back that today was a mixed bag, honestly. On one hand I am sad that it’s been a whole year since I’ve seen Tiger and spent time with him, watching TV with him next to me on the couch (but not too close, Mom, come on!), rubbing his belly (Oh how I hate it when you do that…growl..growl…) and kissing him right between the eyes (NOW THAT IS HUMILIATING STOP IT RIGHT NOW YOU CRAZY WOMAN!). It’s been a year since I ran up the steps, just hoping he was waiting for me, which he always was, with his ears just peeking up over the bottom of the screen door.  It makes me sad to know he hasn’t been in this world for a year now.

But on the other hand, I feel almost proud that it’s been a year and I’m almost a fully functioning human being again.  When he died, I honestly thought the grief would cripple me.  I know that might sound strange to the non-dog-lovers out there, but on this day one year ago I thought I would disappear into a dark hole and never see the light of day again.

In fact, I was so utterly depressed I made an appointment with my doctor to request a sleeping pill, because nighttime was the worst and my insomnia (plus the bad dreams) was killing me.  I mentioned to the nurse practitioner that my dog had died recently, and the grief was so intense I was having trouble sleeping.  She took notes and then left the room to speak with doctor.

When the doctor came in the room, she had such a stricken look on her face.  "I am sooooo sorry," she said.  "I can’t imagine the extent of your loss and I am so sorry.  This must be an incredibly painful time for you," she said sympathetically.

Wow, I thought, this is one cool doctor!  She must have a dog and realize the sense of loss I feel.

Then things got weird.

"You might want to consider taking Zoloft," she suggested.  "Because the insomnia could be caused by your grief and sadness, and the anti-depressant will help more than just a prescription sleeping pill."

Hmmmmmm…it was slowly beginning to dawn on me that the nurse had probably misunderstood what I had said. I realized that she had most likely written down "DAD" instead of "DOG" and that’s why the doctor was being so nice and comforting and recognizing my tremendous sense of loss.

FRICK, I thought, why does this stuff always happen to me?

I could have clarified the situation and explained that my Dad was fine, thank you, it was my beloved dog who had passed away, but why bother? I took the sample pack of Zoloft and stashed it in my dresser drawer, comforted somewhat by the fact that I had it and if the depression and sadness were just too much, I could always try it.  I never did.  I was tempted many, many times (and I have nothing against taking anti-depressants!) I just kept thinking I might be pregnant soon and why experience the quandary of taking or stopping the drug once that happened.

I know – STOP LAUGHING! HEY — I could have gotten pregnant. I said stop laughing (balling hands into fists and madly throwing them about in the air).

Anyhoo, that was a year ago and it did get a little, teeny tiny bit better each day.  The fact that I made it through the paralyzing sadness makes me feel relieved and almost proud. Like if I made it through that, I can make it through anything. I have a resilience I didn’t know existed within me.

And that’s a cool lesson to learn, it just sucks that it has to come from such pain and loss.

I know I said I’d also include some good, but I think I’ll save that for another post. 

I am an idiot and don’t know how to post photos, but I’ll give it a try.  Here are two pictures of my little baby, who brought so much to my life.  I hope he’s  watching over me today.  I miss you Tiger.