So much has been going on lately. My dad fell in mid-February, which started a cascading set of events. We went down, took him to the doctor, the ER and then stayed while he was in the hospital overnight. We brought him home with us, and less than a week later, we had moved him into an assisted living facility 10 minutes from our house. That was about 3 1/2 weeks ago.
This past week, I thought things were getting better. I had been telling Beau that soon, things would get back to normal. Soon, we would be able to start back walking, me and Beau. Soon the time would change (it did today), which means that Tim would start back playing golf, so that Beau and I could hang out more while Tim was gone. We go on walks, we go out back and play, he chases squirrels, we read together on the glider, we hang out on the deck and talk, and on and on and on. Beau was my constant companion, and especially all of the times while Tim is gone, he is my best friend, my comfort and my security.
Tuesday, he was out back playing, chasing squirrels. Tim was cutting down the last of the tree in the backyard, so he had to go behind the fence for his squirrel obsession. He seemed fine. Wednesday morning, we got up and he seemed really lethargic. He didn’t want to eat or drink and just wanted to rest. He seemed restless, not staying on his bed, but wanting to move some, and he never could seem to find a comfortable place to stay long. He had been sick the previous week, not eating and then throwing up, but he had gotten back to normal, or so we thought. Wednesday, early afternoon, I went to see my dad and do things for him (errands, paperwork, bill paying, visiting, etc). I left late afternoon, telling Dad that I needed to go check on Beau, that he wasn’t feeling great. By the time I got home, I could tell that Beau was not doing well. His eyes looked like he was in pain, and he could barely raise his head. I called for Tim, and we couldn’t get him to get up, he was so weak. We called the vet and ran him over. Tim and some of the vet helpers helped carry him in on his bed. They checked him out, and a few minutes later, they told us after the doctors looked at him and ran some tests, that he was in very bad shape. His belly was full of blood, from either a tumor on his spleen that had ruptured, or his actual spleen had ruptured. They didn’t think he was strong enough to survive surgery, and we made the most difficult decision, to let them end his suffering and go to sleep. We brought him home and buried him out back, where he had been playing less than 24 hours before.
My heart is broken into a million tiny pieces. I miss my baby. We should have had so much more time with my Beau baby. We only had him 6 1/2 years, but we loved him every single second of every single day since we rescued him. I see him, hear him … everywhere. I look for him constantly. I think of him constantly. We went through this when we lost our Sally girl, so I know that I will get better in time. But right now, it’s the toughest part. I miss him so, and just want him back.
My darling Beau, I hope heaven is full of squirrels and lizards and squeaky toys and your favorite treats. I hope you’re happy and at peace. Know that we love you and miss you. Now and always.
