{Our ZuZu Girl}
Today I write with a heavy, sad heart. For the last couple weeks our sweet puppy dog has been growing sicker and sicker. With each visit to the vet, meds began being ineffective and questions grew. In the last week our girl lost her strength to stand and walk on her own. Visits outside were accompanied by dad or myself and we usually always had to "clean up"after her as she came back in. Her activity slowed to almost nothing the last few days and we knew it was time.
Last night we sat yall down and prepped for the worst. Explaining the best we could that ZuZu was indeed sick and between eating very little or nothing and only taking sips of water here and there, things didn't look good. It was a hard conversation, tears were shed and we all laid around our sweet furry friend and shared our favorite stories of all that we've done with her. As we got yall ready for bed, each of you spent a little extra time hugging and "kissing" her goodnight. Dad then picked her up and carried her to the boys' room where she spent a majority of the night, it's where she loves to be the most, with her little people.
It's been a rough morning. Tears, tears, and more tears shed by everyone. We buried her in the back portion of the side yard by our farmhouse in Plainwell. Seeing we'll be moving back in a few weeks, we felt it would the best spot and it made the most sense. It was hard to say goodbye, but watching such a lively, nervous, agreeable, and lovable pup become so dull and slow was even harder. We knew it was time and it was right.
I'm still digesting the change. It's only been a few hours, so I write with a truly raw heart. I keep going to say things to her and then realize she's not there or I think I here her and need to let her out... and nope. There's still ZuZu fur all over our home, and I believe there will be for weeks to come and probably even after we move out. Our couch reeks of her wet fur and I was going to clean it up, but was asked by one of you if we could keep the ZuZu smell in our home a little longer. We are all still a bit in shock and still processing what this all means. I feel bare, vulnerable, and a bit unprotected now, alone at home with you kids. Not that she was a giant protector or a vicious pup but she was aware and was willing to take action if needed. Our home feels emptier. And I can't imagine right now, moving back into the country and not seeing her sweet white furry self cruising through the trees, acres and woods exploring with yall in the spring and getting muddy in the fall.
Last night we sat yall down and prepped for the worst. Explaining the best we could that ZuZu was indeed sick and between eating very little or nothing and only taking sips of water here and there, things didn't look good. It was a hard conversation, tears were shed and we all laid around our sweet furry friend and shared our favorite stories of all that we've done with her. As we got yall ready for bed, each of you spent a little extra time hugging and "kissing" her goodnight. Dad then picked her up and carried her to the boys' room where she spent a majority of the night, it's where she loves to be the most, with her little people.
It's been a rough morning. Tears, tears, and more tears shed by everyone. We buried her in the back portion of the side yard by our farmhouse in Plainwell. Seeing we'll be moving back in a few weeks, we felt it would the best spot and it made the most sense. It was hard to say goodbye, but watching such a lively, nervous, agreeable, and lovable pup become so dull and slow was even harder. We knew it was time and it was right.
I'm still digesting the change. It's only been a few hours, so I write with a truly raw heart. I keep going to say things to her and then realize she's not there or I think I here her and need to let her out... and nope. There's still ZuZu fur all over our home, and I believe there will be for weeks to come and probably even after we move out. Our couch reeks of her wet fur and I was going to clean it up, but was asked by one of you if we could keep the ZuZu smell in our home a little longer. We are all still a bit in shock and still processing what this all means. I feel bare, vulnerable, and a bit unprotected now, alone at home with you kids. Not that she was a giant protector or a vicious pup but she was aware and was willing to take action if needed. Our home feels emptier. And I can't imagine right now, moving back into the country and not seeing her sweet white furry self cruising through the trees, acres and woods exploring with yall in the spring and getting muddy in the fall.
Sweet memories of her full, adventurous life will flood each season this coming year. I'm sure there will be many tears as we share them. But I wanted to share some of them here and now with you while our hearts are still tender and still open and raw to what has happened. Our loss will draw us closer together as we mourn and along with the tears we share, the laughter over such a silly, nervous and sometimes, almost dumb puppy, will comfort our hearts and home.
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