I opened my laptop, I've been meaning to write for a minute, but just haven't been able to make the words make sense in my head.
I opened blogger, ready to try and process my thoughts and feelings to get slapped in the face with a blog I never finished from Sept. 6. I don't think it will ever be published, I also know it will never be deleted.
It was a morning so much like today. The crickets were chirping, Hubs and Neeko had just left to get donuts. We'd decided that sounded good that morning and Neeks was bound and determined he was going for a ride. He hadn't been into riding much lately. Getting in and out of the car had become a struggle and I don't think he was enjoying it as much.
Fast forward to nine days later. I'm sitting out here on the deck, the crickets are chirping even louder than ever, the air is crisp and I am surrounded by the warm glow of lights on the deck. It's a pretty bland morning in the heavens, the stars are dim and I didn't notice the moon at all. Unlike that morning which had been crisp and bright, full of starts with a bright moon overhead.
On Sept 10, Hubs and I were trying to figure out how to help our daughter and family feel wrapped in love as the honored the 6th anniversary of our son-in-law passing. Should we take over white roses? Offer to take them to dinner. There really aren't words or actions that make such a day easier, but we were both thinking about it.
We took our Neeko for a walk, it was slow and lingering. I guess now I realize he was savoring it because it would be the last one. As Hubs grilled our boy his breakfast steak we joked a bit about what the neighbors must think smelling the grill so early each morning. As we sat outside sipping coffee and chatting it didn't occur to us that Neeko hadn't wandered out. He was napping.
Just as his breakfast cooled and I was calling him to come eat, our world shifted.
We'd known for a long time that every minute with that precious boy was a pure gift from heaven. He'd lived so much longer than was normal for his breed mix. A massive seizure lead us to an emergency vet, as we struggled to comprehend what we both knew.
The vet was optimistic at first, told us take him home, maybe a few weeks, if we were lucky a few months. We were so hopeful. We simply knew in our hearts our love would keep him with us. A few short hours and one very long seizure (over 10 minutes) and we knew that we had to love him enough to let him go.
Being stupid COVID, only one of us was able to be by his side, holding him and loving him as he crossed the rainbow bridge and ran to his brother. I so wanted to be selfish, I wanted to be the one there. Again, I knew that wasn't going to happen, nor would it be right. His daddy held him close and whispered to him that he was deeply loved as he left us.
As we gathered the information for the sweet lady taking care of his cremation we realized our sweet baby had been part of our lives for just over 10 years. And I can still recall the day he joined our family like yesterday. From the jarring truck ride, to the dash down Locust street in sheer panic, to an evening spent with my girl trying to coax him inside for the night. Ten cans of vienna sausages later we discovered all it took was a leash to get him to come right along. We also discovered that if it included food, that sweet boy was never going to miss something thrown in his direction.
He was the biggest baby his entire life. Always wanting non-stop love, never trusting enough to accept it fully. He'd had a bit of a rough start, I don't know that he ever quite got over it. He loved to play and had a bigger toy box (which he sorted through on a regular basis) than most children. His passion for playing and treats was simply unrivaled.
I will never forget the email saying "there is a 3 year old brown haired, brown eyed baby boy needing a home"... or my response.... "I don't care if it is 2 legged or 4 legged... the answer is no". How little I knew.
I started this so long ago now it seems. I never had the heart to finish it.
He's home now, his ashes sit beside all the other fur babies. We might actually take his toys down to the basement today. We haven't really had the heart and well frankly, why does it matter.
There will always be a hole in our hearts. He was such a sweet and wonderful addition to our home and our lives. Letting him go was so painful, we both know it was the right thing to do. We are at peace and we know he is too.
Sweet Neeko... you will always stay in our hearts until we meet again at that beautiful Rainbow Bridge.
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