Letting Go? I Can't.

Our family faced five devastating losses between fall 2009 and winter 2010. The pain began with the death of my "wild-child" MacKenzie in October 09, and followed with goofy, happy Tucker, magical, lovely, damaged Gemma-Joy, my sweet, beautiful, gentle Kirby and ending with our sad-eyed, strong-willed, gorgeous Madison.

There really are no words. Our home is not the same. I look for my missing loved ones constantly, sometimes I'm certain I hear MacKenzie crying or Tucker baying. I see shadows and for fleeting, heartbreaking moments I think maybe this has just been the most horrific nightmare I've ever suffered. Then reality takes over and I realize that the nightmare continues.

I am often reminded, by well-meaning but misguided friends (or people who never were and never will be friends, but who believe their opinions mean something) that we still have six dogs who need us. As if I don't know that. All I think about is how much Kiefer, Piper, Molly, Clio, Zoe and Sawyer need us, and how much I need them. What I don't understand is how anyone can believe that the dogs I love can fill the gaping hole left by those loved and lost. Dogs are not interchangeable, they are unique, sentient beings who bring qualities totally their own to relationships. They each leave us with special, priceless memories, but they also rip out distinct parts of our souls, parts that cannot be replaced, not by anyone.

Kenzie-Dog, Tucker-Mucker, Gemmie, Kirbles, Maddie: I hope to God you are all safe, healthy, happy, free from fear, loneliness, and pain, wherever you are. When I find you again, when we are reunited, I'll feel that way,too.