It’s taken me over a week to put it in print…the sweet little doggie with me in my homepage picture is gone. Hit and run. No more Maxwell Cooper Ferrato. He died at the tender age of 4 1/2 years. Broke my heart.
I had no idea it would hurt so badly to lose a dog. Then, I realized what that dog was to me. He was here through all the tests, through all the chemo, through the surgeries. He never asked for much when I felt crappy. In fact, there were a couple of days I spent in bed with my mom taking over household duties…I don’t think the dog left me once. Then, as I felt better, he got me outside. We hit the trail together. Of course, I still have John and the kids. Obviously, their love and support are just as tangible. But, there is just something about the love of a dog…I wasn’t just part of his life, I WAS his life. He was a nice doggie.
The night after we lost him, we began to search for another dog. It made me think about my own death. Will I so easily be replaced? Are my husband and children already searching for people in their lives that will step in when I check out? Will I be here one day full of life, then, boom…be dead? Or will I fade slowly, deteriorating piece by piece until there is nothing left of me? Witnessing a death of something so part of your life makes you reflect at least a little…
So, Max did get replaced. One week after I sent him to be buried “in the countryside”, the kids and I drove to Seville to pick up our new bundle. His name is Cooper. He’ll never be the same guy as Max, but he’ll be our new best friend. We’re already pretty attached. But, man, when will we sleep through the night again!!!!
Max we miss you! Cooper you are adorable!