Wilson

I'm coming up on 1 year since Wilson's death. This past year has been such a learning, feeling, and healing journey understanding how to adjust to life without my best friend. I wrote the following about 1 year ago...

Wilson’s Final Game:

I’ve anticipated this day to come, and I even prepped for it a little, I just didn’t picture it happening during his favorite game “Snow Balls”.

Each winter, Wilson would get excited for snow, for the chance for him and I to play ‘snowballs’ in the yard. Since being a young pup, Wilson would stare me down through the frosty glass door to bring attention to the fact that ‘it’s time’. And then, he would stand and loudly bark until I finally caved and answered his request to play.

The two of us would go outside for a never ending and exhausting game of snowball chase. One after another, I would throw snow balls back and forth on Moore street, the full stretch of the yard, as he chased and chased and chased….and barked and barked and barked. His bark sounded intense, but if anyone could see thru his saggy, drooly and floppy, Elvis Presley lip, you could understand it brought him joy & happiness.

He never wanted the snowball game to end. After rounds and rounds, I finally would go back inside our house to get warm, trying to ignore my dog’s persistent loud bark for me to come back out and play some more.

At times, our game was adjusted to fit the situational needs: our living situation, the texture of the snow, and his age. To him, it didn’t matter if we played in our yard or dog park, with ice or snow, if he was heathy or limping, or young or older. Wilson always wanted to play his favorite game.

The “Big-Dog” didn’t understand limitations. At times I had to modify necessary accommodations to make certain a version of our snowball game was held. Over time, running distances became shorter and the number of rounds we’d play became less. Once Wilson reached his “retirement” age, only 2 rounds with a pause in between, was the newest rule to protect his heath.

Yesterday, on the last day of winter, being 60 degrees, and with the limited but existing snowbanks that remained, we planned to play one final “wintry” game of snowballs. Little did I know, it would be our last game forever, and his time on earth would come to an end.

My heart aches. Pain.

Within this heart-breaking sorrow that I feel, I am open to understanding the silverlining. As I anticipated this day nearing, I hoped with all my heart that Wilson would pass naturally, quick, and not alone. I wanted to be by his side. All of my hopes for his 'final day' were met, as I hugged him while he took his last breath. It was this last, and dark winter’s day that Wilson’s chapter came to an end.

Today, the day after, the first day of Spring, my husband John and I sat together at a local coffee shop and reminisced about our last 10 years, and 8 months that all of us have been together. We viewed endless photos of our beloved companion, and even laughed some. We called our time with Wilson “pure joy”, with “some parts questionable”. Wilson was our pampered pooch, our very first dog, our “Bubbies”, “Big Dog”, and he gave to us “A Life” that we could have never imagined.

Wilson, forever I will be thankful for all your memories, the protection you provided to us-especially me- and a best friendship. I will love you always, & I will never forget you.