A Second Grave

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Just 25 days ago, I buried Horatio.

And today,
today I buried Jack.

To anyone else, they were just dogs.
Sweet little dogs with their own indiosincracies, but dogs nonetheless.

However,
to me
they were the world.

They helped me survive decades of life-crushing Clinical Depression.
They convinced me on three separate occasions that suicide was not a solution.

One night,  fourteen years ago, when Jack was not even one, I was full of despair.
Utterly bereft of  hope.
Utterly.

I was sitting on my couch, drinking red wine and crying.
Really, really sobbing.
Jack was sitting by my feet, and as I sobbed – he howled.

He howled like a wolf at the moon. He sat at my feet, and he sang a deep forgotten song from his ancestors. In unison with my own pain.

He had never done it before and has not done it since.

And from that day, he and I have had a bond. A tether bound by sadness and primal sounds.
He became my soulmate.

And I have loved him so deeply.
With every fibre and every breath.

He was such a beautiful dog.
He was more than a dog.

He really was.

.

This is the last image I have have of him with breath in his body.

Look how much pain he is

Look how much pain he is

.

So today I dug a hole, and I kissed his cold head and stroked his beautiful soft fur and I said a goodbye. A goodbye that resonates so fiercely that I sob as I type.

My beloved, beautiful Jack.

God.
My life will never be the same.

I will love you forever and ever and ever.

Forever!
God I miss you so much already.

My Beloved

My Beloved

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.

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2 responses »

  1. You poor Sweets, I really feel for you losing two pups. Your posts have both been lovely. You are a brave and independent soul, I can tell. I love dogs so much, like you. Thinking of you, from the East. Xxx

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