When you think of the term, you think of a length of time spent with another, spent apart, how much time has elapsed since you did or didn’t do something.  When it’s a marker of something positive (like my parents recently celebrating having been married for 40 years), it’s wonderful.  But what happens when it’s the anniversary of the passing of someone you loved?  Then it’s treacherous.

The time had come.  Cancer had ridden his body.  He had lost a bunch of weight.  He had had to have a toe amputated which was cancerous.  But here he was,  Rufus Palmer, my golden retriever and most definitely the best friend I’ve ever had, the one who saved me from myself, the one who taught me what love really is, he was the one who was going through all of this suffering.  We lived in a farmhouse in Vermont for many years, just the two of us.  Every person who met him immediately fell in love with him, including my mother, who did not like animals at all; she ended up loving him almost as much as I had. 

 Being my dog, I was given two decisions.  Do I opt to have him remain here for my own selfish reasons, having him here at a fraction of who he was for a couple more months (which the vet said would be his maximum life expectancy) because I wanted him here at any cost? Or do I somehow find the strength to love him enough to be able to say goodbye forever, at least in this life? 

All of this happened in the span of one month.  In a way, I’m glad, because he didn’t have to endure eons of suffering, but it’s been really difficult to not place some of the blame on this rock of an island.  Before we moved here, in Idaho, he was fine and in perfect health.  We move here on May 8th, and he’s in this state by September 11th? 

Dogs are lucky.  If you love them enough and you can get your ego and what it wants to shut up for just a second, you can end their suffering, say goodbye, and let them go with dignity.  Humans aren’t so lucky, being forced to maintain what most cannot barely consider ‘living’ at any cost.

It all came down to me.  My spiritual beliefs are a hodgepodge of different traditions, but I firmly believe that the spirit is eternal and is with us always.  If I believed this, really believed this, how in the world could I force the one who loved me so to remain just to allay my own fears?  I could not possibly allow another being to suffer so when I knew he would be happy and peaceful in the spirit realm.  So it was my decision to say goodbye to him.

  We (my mom, who had grown to love him as much as me, my dad, and my boyfriend) went to the vet.  Rufus knew what was up and had grown to hate that place.  They put him on a table.  They gave him a shot.  I sang him a song I’d been singing to him since he was 7 weeks old.  And then he was gone.

Then came the hard part.  I have never had to experience the death of anyone really close to me, let alone one of the most important people in my world.  I bit my lip to keep from crying as I continued going to interviews.  Tears came every time a thought of him came up.  My boyfriend’s one primary dislike is crying, so this really sucked for him too.

Today marks a year since that all happened.  I’ve managed to completely soak a handkerchief while writing this.  The notion they tell you that it takes a year to get over someone you’ve lost is just bullshit to this sentimental Cancerian.  The pain and the tears may not come as often as this time last year, but they’re still there. They always will be.  And today it hurts as much as if this all happened yesterday instead of a year ago.

I always liked the way the Pet Psychic on Animal Planet would put it when talking about losing our fur covered friends.  She said “We never ‘get over’ them.  We just get used to living without them.”  I couldn’t agree more. 

So as I try to go on with my normal life today, try to keep my mascara from running, my mind lingers on one thing and one thing only:  how lucky I was to have been given seven years to be with the most loving, kind, happy furry spirit that was Rufus Palmer.  I was very privileged to have been his companion.  He showed me a lot about the world.  He gave me a reason to live when I couldn’t find one.  And he taught me that unconditional love DOES exist, and receiving that gift is one of the most precious things I’ve ever experienced in my life.