Yesterday we had to put down our beloved Winnie Woo. Today our hearts are broken.
We adopted Winnie when she was three and only had seven years with her, but they were the best seven years of our life. She was a blessing from God. She brought us closer together, made us laugh with her endless supply of cuteness, and taught us to be better parents. Not once did Winnie see me drunk, or yelling at my husband, or trying to hurt myself. She saved me when my depression was so dark I could not see a way out. She was the light of my life here on earth. My best friend. My sidekick. My sweet, sweet girl. She sat by my side while I wrote sixteen books. She traveled with us to Seattle, Denver, San Francisco, Ventura, Sonoma, San Diego, Palm Springs, West Virginia, and Virginia. Our little Winnie went everywhere with us because she was a part of our family. She was like a daughter to us.
And now there's an empty gaping hole where she used to be. A hole that goes so deep and wide it seems like it will never be repaired. I know with all my heart she's free from the pain we didn't know she was enduring. But it still hurts like hell. And it will for a long time.
She went way too quickly. The last couple of years she had troubles, but her blood tests always came back normal. No one told us she was sick with cancer. In January, we discovered she had a stomach valve issue and were told she could easily live out the rest of her natural life if we monitored her food intake. I thought we had a few more years with Winnie, but last week her stomach started to swell and it wouldn't go down like it used to. By Saturday night, she was extremely bloated and having trouble breathing. We rushed her to the hospital, where they removed a bunch of fluid from around her heart, lungs and abdomen. They ran more blood tests, which came back normal. So they kept her over night for observation and monitor the fluid around her heart and lungs. On Sunday morning the technician said she was doing better. We thought she was coming home. Until the doctor called and told us the reality of the situation. We could keep running tests and maybe but probably not find out what was wrong, or we could let her go.
Saying good-bye to Winnie was harder than Sadie or Quincy because it came out of the blue. We had no idea how sick she was. And it breaks my heart to think that she was suffering. She gave us so much unconditional love. SO MUCH LOVE. She was tender and gentle and kind. Anyone who knew Winnie loved her. It was impossible not to. Boston Terriers are a special breed. And Winnie took the cake. Not a day passed that she didn't make us laugh.
Last night I couldn't sleep, so I went out to the living room to pray. I sobbed and prayed and cried until the soft, still voice of God whispered to me that I don't need to worry about Winnie anymore. I felt a momentary peace. Over these last two years I did a lot of worrying because of her skin issues and stomach problems. But she is free from all of her earthly pain now. Praise God for giving us the courage to let her go.
For anyone who has ever suffered the loss of a beloved pet, you know this level of pain. It feels like there is poison running through my nervous system trying to take me out. But I know Winnie wouldn't want me to suffer. I will grieve for a long time but I will also cherish the love she planted in my heart. I know that her memories and love will eventually outweigh the gut-wrenching grief.
Thank you, Winnie, for all of the love and light and joy and happiness and hope you gave us. You blessed us with so much. I'm trusting that you're back home with Jesus and that Sadie and Quincy are showing you were all the best food is.
Below are some of my favorite pics.
Our last picture together:
Winnie's last picture ever:
Thank you for reading.
