Two Days After Otis Went To The Bridge

[Guest Machbragal]

Thinking of you. I have a very special cat who lives with me now, and I know when I lose him I wll be lost in the world. Sometimes there's a certain animal that connects in a very special way -- not that each and every one of them isn't special. I can't explain it, but I know you'll understand. My cat is 9 years old and has had health issues since he was 7 weeks old (I've cared for him since he was discarded at 2 days old). I treasure every single day with him. I don't know what I'll do when the time comes to say goodbye.

[Guest WarmheartedPups]

It's almost one a.m., and I'm just sitting here thinking about you and Otis, so I decided to come here... I haven't been on GT for a long while, but it's too late to do much else.

 

It really is so unfair. You're right, Linda. It's just not freaking fair. When I first saw your email, I felt just the way you said, Like there had to be some mistake. What else could explain our wonderful friend being taken from us? I don't know. I still don't know.

 

What I DO know is that every decision that you have ever made for those dogs was made out of love. You have never waited too long or not tried hard enough. You are going to question everything you did this weekend because it's what we do when we don't understand what happened. And the questions change depending on what happened... "Was it too soon?" "Was it too late?" Did I wait too long or not long enough? You question because you can't wrap your mind around something that just makes no damned sense. Cancer, stroke, aneurism, whatever...it's just not right. Otis isn't here, and there's no way to make that seem like the right thing. No answer will EVER satisfy the question of Why Otis? Because there's no good answer.

 

Otis shouldn't be gone. No other answer will ever be right.

 

I'd like to say that there's a short cut to make this pain stop, or at least buy you some surcease. But you know from your experience with Dewey that there's not. It just hurts like a **. (And yes, I know that will only show up as asterisks, but I still had to write it because there's just no other word.)

 

I also agree that you have to find a way to get that last image of Otis out of your head. You have to remember him the way he was every other moment of your lives together - as a beautiful, wonderful dog.

 

Otis had the softest ears...And this look on his face that could just melt your heart. Having Otis there with you was a kind of peace. Like whatever else was going on, when you would kiss his cheek, your heart felt calm. He was kind of a Zen dog. I feel really lucky to have known him, to have gotten to share my universe with a being that was here with us for the sole purpose to sharing love. My God, really, what else is there? If you can find a piece of that calmness, of that peace, that Otis brought. If you can hold in your heart the memory of what he wanted you to have, then THAT is the peace you seek - the one that he brought you. Because Linda, he gave you that love to keep. He didn't take it with him. He gave and gave and gave. What he took with him was the love that you gave him. If there's respite to be had from the grief of losing Otis, let it be the salve of the love that he left you with.

 

I don't understand why Otis. Why now? Why? I don't know. It's not fair. It's not right. But we got to have him here with US. For the ephemeral time that he had here, you got to hold him and love him and snuggle and sleep with him. I got to pet him and kiss him and laugh at his sweet cuteness. Aren't we LUCKY? We really are. And unfortunately, the measure of our grief is the depth of our love. And it's bottomless.

 

I remember reading something (probably here) that was a story of a religious leader who said, to a grieving parishioner, Would you have loved him less, so that your grief would not be so deep? And you know the answer. You couldn't have loved him any differently than you did.

 

Anyway, that's a long freaking way of saying that it's okay to question, and grieve and feel like the ground should swallow you whole.

 

And it will get better eventually.

 

And Otis will remain forever in the hearts of everyone who knew him. He wasn't just any dog, he was OTIS! He was amazing. There are dogs, and then there are dogs. And then there's Otis. And when I picture his face, his ears at half mast as when he was expecting something good...I smile through tears.

 

 

Tami, what a special heartfelt message. Thank you so very much.

[patricia]

I know...

[Forevermybabies]

You're welcome Linda. I know what Otis means to you (and to us.)

 

Last night I let Festus sleep in my bed...Put the cat food up so he wouldn't get it. I forgot about the cat box. I woke up to Festus' teeth in my face, COATED with that scoopable litter. Like concrete pylons barricading his tongue. Streaks of grey litter all over his feet, and a solidified pee block in the middle of my bedroom (apparently he got full in the middle of his midnight snack and couldn't quite finish that last blob.) He was sleeping very soundly when I left though. Apparently a pound of clay in one's gut is very satisfying.

 

But Festus is my Otis, ya know. So when I gush about Otis, it's because I understand.

 

I re-read some of Otis' posts last night. You are a very smart and funny lady Linda, and it's going to get you through this. When I saw what Festus had done, I thought I could just about hear your Otis impression, "I was fwamed." He is with us every day.

[Sirocco_Nikki]

Been there, done that, have the the guilt-shirt for it. The vet and the specialist told me that surgery for Polly's laryngeal paralysis would greatly improve her quality of life. She was my baby-girl so I agreed. I had no idea when I signed the consent that I was going to put my girl through all the circles of hades and back. When she left for the bridge 10 months later, I couldn't decide if I was more relieved it was finally over or devastated it was finally over. It took a long time to get past the sensation that someone had gouged my lungs out of my chest using a dull spoon and then poured acid into the hole.

 

However, Polly has been gone 6 years. When I think of her now, it is always with a smile. About the time she stole my snooty-know-it-all relative's corned beef sandwich. Or the way she could snatch a racquetball out of mid-air after flying across the yard. Or scamming Chester out of his dog chow by pretending a cat was outside. Or especially how she would give dh serious grief for sitting in HER chair when she was ready to go nite-nite. One thing that has helped is knowing she is still here. How else can I explain having a greyhound (Sirocco) that acts like a brittany spaniel (Polly)?

 

Another thing that helped is knowing that grief comes in layers. Each layer had to be worked through in my own way and my own time before I could move on to the next. Until one day, I realized that my memories of her sweet, loving, rotten, stinking and ornery ways had replaced the ones of her gasping for air.

 

Please give yourself a break. You made the decisions you did out of love. No one can ever do better than that.

[Guest VelvetEars]

Been there, done that.

 

Hindsight is always 20/20.

 

We make the best decisions we can given the information we have at the moment. There is no reason to second-guess yourself, beat yourself up, or feel guilty. We cannot go back and change the past. We can only acknowledge it, and move forward.

 

Remember Otis with love, for that's how he remembers you.

[Guest GiJenn51]

:bighug

[nyGreys]

:grouphug

[Devotion]

Linda,

I am truly sorry for your loss of Otis. Everyone here on GT loved the situations Otis and Roo got into. They personally provided me with many laughs. I know the pain is so raw and all consuming. It really does take over and your body and brain begin to function on auto pilot. But like others have said if we didn't love that much it wouldn't hurt so much. I have also been thinking a lot about the gift of a miracle, trying to hold on hope for my Scooter who has osteo, but in reality I realize my miracle is us finding each other. Peace and strength to you my friend. The road at times may be long but we are all here to travel it with you.

 

Pam