Goodbye Riley.

Today was the day I had to make the hardest decision a pet owner has to make and I said one final goodbye to my amazing dog, Riley. I knew this day was coming as he was now 13 and he had health issues, but he had been going so well. I had hoped that he would get to his ‘adoption’ anniversary at the end of the month but his body knew different and my hand was forced by circumstance.

You’ve heard it all before from other grieving pet owners, but I can honestly say that no pet has ever had such an impact in my life than that of Riley. From the moment I saw his face in the online advertisement I knew he was mine. I just didn’t comprehend how deeply his presence would change me from the person I was when I bought him.

Riley, through his own personality, taught me to be confident, brave and unafraid.

You see……. Riley was a dude.

Riley was a little dog with a big personality but he was not arrogant or cocky. Everybody who met him loved and admired him.

No collar and lead for this man. He didn’t need it and as a matter of fact, when he was required to be on lead his whole persona was different. Riley walked the streets like he owned them. Just a couple of feet ahead of me, but never afraid of what was ahead of him and never intimidated by any dog he met on his walk. Without my even being aware of it, this is precisely what I needed to learn about life and myself.

Riley was never a clingy “Hold me! Pat me!” dog but he was always by my side. Sitting on the couch, he had to be beside me. Not ON me, beside me. Having a shower, he’d be waiting outside the shower screen, on the bath mat, for me to exit. Going to the toilet he’d be propped at my feet. Bedtime, sleeping right next to me from the first day he arrived. If I was sad or unwell his solid presence was something I could always rely on.

The number of times I’ve turned around and nearly fallen flat on my face because he was right behind me. And I tell you, now that I’m in my fifties I have often wondered if I’d be one of those women who breaks her hip tripping over her dog. Writing this now, without his body pressed against my feet and his snores vibrating the computer desk is breaking my heart. The lack of him is achingly present.

Fortunately, I still have Almond. I know she senses that something is not right. Matthew and I went out today with her buddy Riley but he didn’t come home with us. And Riley wasn’t there when she had dinner. But Almond brought me a perfect dose of reality as she waded through a deep, muddy puddle this afternoon. Nothing like being required to bath a muddy, smelly dog to make you know you’re alive.

The next few days are going to be hard and I’ll probably cry a lot, but never, for a single moment, would I ever consider NOT owning a dog or having a pet because of the likelihood of having to experience this absolute sense of loss again.

Loss is part of love and I loved my boy Riley with all my heart. For eleven years he has been my main man.

And now he’s gone.

And there’s a big hole in my heart.

Goodbye my Riley dog.

I miss you.

We miss you.