A Puppy's Kiss

I've only known unconditional love a handful of times. It may seem sad to you that I would say such a thing but before you feel sorry for me, you should know that those few times have been enough to soothe much of the hurt of not being loved all the time. This unconditional love came from two places my human children and my furry children--my dogs.

Yesterday, I buried one of my furry children.

It is a day and a feeling I'll never forget. I have not cried so much or so hard since I miscarried my babies.Yes, I compared losing a child to losing a dog. For me both experiences felt the same.

I've struggled all of my life with feelings of abandonment. My mother left me before I knew her face, My father, then in the Navy, shipped me home to my grandparents. Soon he returned to me and whisked me away from there to find himself a new wife. And soon after that, I was a big sister and forever felt like the third wheel in our family; I just didn't belong.  As a teen, my parents divorced and my father moved back home to Idaho, leaving me behind again...I could go on but it isn't worth the pain of rehashing it all.

My feelings of abandonment led me to dark places. I would tolerate any abuse as long as at the end of the day the abuser stayed with me. I could not bare the thought of being 'left.' In my crazy mixed up mind  I always believed that there must be something wrong with me and that is why I was always being dumped like smelly garbage.

Those feelings of worthlessness persisted until I gave birth to my son at age 17. The minute I gazed into those big blue eyes, I knew my search for love was over. Here was a child who would love me completely and whom I could love back fiercely, forever. I would never be alone or unloved again. My son would never know the pain of being unloved, unwanted, or abandoned.  I was dizzy with joy.

My first dog, Sugar, came into my life just over a year later. Sugar was a ten pound Yorkie/Chihuahua mix. The minute I laid eyes on that little dog I knew...

Sugar was my constant companion for 15 years. Most of those 15 years were bad years. Though I now had constant and unconditional love in my life I had yet to grow a backbone or learn to love myself. I recall after one particularly bad bout of abuse from my boyfriend I was ready to go. I snatched up my son and threw him in the car. As I was pulling out of the driveway, Sugar came running after us. My boyfriend scooped her up, held her up in the air by her front legs and threatened to rip them off. I slammed on the brakes, begged for her life, and promised not to try and leave again. I could not leave my sweet girl, no matter the cost to me.

Soon after that I found a friend for Sugar and I. His name was Spot; he was a frisky blue healer pup. The two dogs, funny pair that they were, became best friends.  They ate together, bathed together, slept together, and were completely loved and spoiled by me.

Fifteen years later Sugar died in my arms of congestive heart failure.  I knew it was coming. The doctor had warned me but...I'd never felt such horrific grief. I vomited. I screamed. I felt as if someone had filled my chest with buckshot. I could not breathe. I could not sleep. I curled into a ball on my bed and didn't leave for days. I was bereft. Spot stayed by my side. He felt the loss of his friend and my grief deeply. Spot never ate or walked again. He gave up. He died less than two months after Sugar.

The pain and loss I felt...I'm not sure I can even put into words the grief I felt. Nothing, in my experience, felt that awful. No matter what I did, I felt incomplete, alone, and depressed.

My Buzzy--the dog I buried yesterday--was my cure.  He was a--Pembroke Welsh Corgi--fluffy red pup with short plump legs who looked like a teddy bear/fox cross but acted like a wind up toy; constantly in motion.  I was once again in love and loved. Buzzy was smart and before long I had him doing all kinds of tricks. He could play a toy piano; jump, sit, stay, and roll over on command; speak and whisper.

Buzzy also learned to smile. While I was training the goofy guy I rewarded him with bits of food, warm smiles, and hugs.  Forever after that, when you called his name my dog would crack a grin from ear to ear.  He was giddy with joy, always.

I was so enamored with this lovely  personality, I got him a friend. Are you sensing a theme yet?  Her name was Bunny. Bunny was nothing like her counterpart. While Buzzy was eager to please, Bunny would wag her nubbin of a tail at you and then roll over for a belly scratch. Bunny had no interest in tricks or pleasing anyone but herself.

Those two dogs brought me so much joy. I was proud of my beautiful coppery dogs. I often took them to public events on a tandem leash. Strangers fawned over my fur babies as much as I did.

Those dogs loved me though a divorce that cost me everything. They loved me through three miscarriages and my son's difficult teenage years. My son tells me now, he probably wouldn't have made it through those years without Buzzy's smiling face. They loved me through starting over in life. They were nothing but absolute love.

When Bunny died in February of this year, I knew from experience that Buzzy wouldn't be far behind.  He quickly went from happy and spry to laying about all day. I tried to cheer him up. I tried to give him the love I knew he was missing because that's what he always did for me.

But the loss of his Bunny was more than he could take.

The doctor told me at his last visit, he had congestive heart failure but I think Buzzy succumbed to a broken heart.

I know how he feels.

As I look back on my lost dogs, I am both comforted and tortured. A dog's love is true and sure and constant. It is one the strongest loves I've ever known and comparable only to the love I receive from my children.  But the pain of losing them is like having your flesh  stripped from your body. It is an indescribable ache in the soul...it is hell.

Is that constant and unconditional love worth the pain of losing them when they pass? Is having loved and lost better than having never loved at all?

Today, fresh with grief, I'd tell you no. No love is worth that horrendous, gut-wrenching, torturous pain.

But if you ask me tomorrow I may tell you differently because there is no love like the love from a dog; there is no psychiatrist a good as a puppy kiss.

Rest in peace, Buzzy, Bunny, Spot and Sugar.  I'll see you again someday and it will be a joyous reunion. I'll bring the bacon.