The loss of Liam

I lost dear, sweet Liam today.  And while I know that he is finally running free of the many ills that plagued his bony body, I cannot describe the pain my heart feels at having to let him go.

I should have been better prepared.  From the time he first came to me--an abandoned waif left to die by the side of the road--I always knew that Liam's fragile body was in danger of failing, but his tough-as-nails, never-give-up spirit kept fooling me into believing that he would somehow be able to recover form the knockout punches that life had dealt him, and that he would always be by my side.  Liam had that power.

These are the delusions of anyone who has ever loved a dog, I think, and I unapologetically plead guilty to nurturing them.

It was on a beautiful October Saturday, exactly one year, eight months, and 21 days ago, that my heart sang as I scooped Liam up and put him gently into my car to begin our journey together, one that seemed fraught with optimism and joy, even though I knew it would ultimately end like this.  But as I wrapped him in a quilt this morning, and laid Liam down to take what I realized would be our last ride together, my heart protested amid the sobs:  too soon, too soon.

Rest in peace, my beautiful boy.  You were a gift from heaven, and I was so honored to be there to hold you and to love you as you took your last breath.  You'll live forever in my heart.