Today we had to put down my sweet dog Scooby. It was sudden and overwhelming but there was nothing we could for him other than make sure he was out of pain. He was a great dog. Funny, a big mush, odd at times but always loving. I have never had to put down a pet before and it hit me harder than I imagined. I think that is in part due (largely I think) to the fact that I no longer have a barrier (i.e. food) to my emotions. I just had to let the sadness come and cry. I hate crying, more than most things, because it always feels unstoppable. Like once you start it's never going to end. However, as we all know, the tears stop and you move on. I wasn't there for when they put him down but I did go and say my good byes. It was scary. I have dealt with death before, more than I would like to think about but I was always at a distance. I wasn't there when any relative passed away, just funerals (which is hard enough). I know that losing Scooby wasn't as hard as losing my Uncle but it was still upsetting none the less.
I can come away from this knowing that I didn't give into G calling me to eat away the pain. He did win a small battle in that I did have a cigarette. However, I am not going to beat myself up for it. I did it, it's done, and I won't be having any more. I did the best I could and that is all I can ask of myself.
Rest In Peace Scoobers