I won't go on about grief. I'm learning to deal with it—meaning I accept it when it comes, and avoid it when I can.
Anyone who's ever had a dog as a best friend knows the character of canine friendship, and the utter loss when it's gone.
If there's anything at all positive to focus on, it's been the surprising outpouring of support from among my human friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers. I have been propped up these last few days by the many, many comments, emails, tweets, phone calls, and other indications of support. All from people who knew me, who knew of me, who knew my dog, who knew of my dog through this blog—so many people who took the time to post a comment, either here, at Facebook, or privately through a much-appreciated email. I read each and every word gratefully.
There is a tendency to believe that our words are puny at a time of grief, and thus we shy away from expressing our condolences. I'm certainly guilty of that. But I have learned that even the puniest words of support mean so much to one who is aching inside. Recognition that that grief is real, is natural, helps soothe the heartbreak as fresh air heals a wound.
I have lost my best friend, but I have gained the knowledge that I have many, many friends.
