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goodbye, sweet jenny
It’s taken me a full week to sit at my computer and put into words how I’m feeling about letting go of my sweet golden, Jenny.
She was a part of our lives for more than thirteen years, so we believe she was nearing fifteen years old, seeing as she was approximately 1 1/2 when we rescued her.
Jenny was a kind, gentle soul. We are missing her terribly.
As I walked about the house last week, I struggled at times to remember she was gone.
Jenny was 100% blind during the last year-and-a-half of her life. While this was difficult for her at first, she adapted. And we did our best to not move things around the downstairs of our house. She knew her way around, but watching her move about the house was like watching a game of pinball. And everywhere I look now, there are nose prints at her eye (or nose) level. On the refrigerator? Nose prints. Doors to the outside? Nose prints. Walls? Nose prints.
And while I thought I would be quick to clean the nose prints off of these surfaces, I’ve been unable to do so. I even caught my son taking a photo of a glass door with his phone to keep the memory.
There are also the other things you would expect to see: various toys around the house, her food bowls, her large, round dog bed. To say, we’ve been avoiding putting these things away is an understatement.
Then there are all the times this past week that I expected her to mosey around the corner.
We never fed Jenny human food from the table—not really—but I always snuck her a pepperoni when I made pizza or a piece of turkey when making a sandwich. She looked forward to such treats so much that it only took the sound of the plastic packaging or the sound of the meat drawer being opened for her to come expectantly into the kitchen.
Even today, there are signs that she’s actually still wandering about the house.
Jenny had become increasingly uncomfortable in recent months, leading her to pace at times, unable to settle at night. In the days since her passing, I still hear her pacing around downstairs at night or during the day when I’m working upstairs. She even woke me up this morning, twelve days after her passing.
Losing pets is so hard. The often become members of the family. We make incredible memories with our pets. Our children grow up along side our beloved pets. They’re there to cuddle when we’re upset. They join in the celebrations. They often sleep beside us. They greet us at the door when we return.
I have an endless supply of photos of Jenny throughout the years. I shared a sample of those pictures from my phone on Instagram. I have thousands more on my computer.
Goodbye, sweet Jenny. We will miss you.
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