We lost our sweet girl yesterday. We had Sunny for 12 years and 8 months. We called her our sweet “lellow”, an homage to Ian who for a long time couldn’t say the y-sound. And it stuck… our sweet lellow girl. She passed away at home in one of her favorite spots, with us loving her until the end.
She was diagnosed with cancer at the beginning of the pandemic. She had a ping pong ball sized tumor on her spleen and a two-inch tumor on her heart. They gave her only weeks. It was the dead of winter – late March. I grieved hard then. (And honestly, have grieved every day since, knowing her fate.) But, she kept going. She eased us into the spring. The pandemic was robbing us of our lives before but she got us into the warmth and sunshine. Then into the summer. Being able to see her swim and enjoy life. And then, now, easing into the fall. She lived for 5 more months.
She was our constant. Ian came down this morning to a quiet house for the first time in his life; she used to pop her head up whenever she would hear him, loving his love and that he fed her in equal measure. He misses snuggling with her because she was always so good at that. Giving and receiving love. When Joey would come home from school, he would plop down on the sofa and so would she, her head in his lap as he settled back into “home.” She used to spend many of her days hanging out in his room, waiting for him to come home. Jason taking a nap on the sofa, Sunny always snuggled up next to him, never leaving his side. She was so good at never leaving your side.
And me? Well, she was my sidekick. That sweet dog was by my side for every single thing. The ordinary things… coffee and reading in the early morning or making dinner. (Oh, her love of food. She was a Labrador, after all.) The great things… milestones, awards, good news. She celebrated with us because she was always with us. And the hard things too… loss, fear, grief. Quietly offering her body to hug and cry on. There, always. It was such a privilege to care for her these last few months, when she needed more.
Sunny was the heart of our family. She was by my side nearly all of motherhood. She was right in the middle of the mess, the good and bad. She loved on me when I was vulnerable. One of my most treasured memories was when I was in labor with Ian. I was in denial that it was actually happening but I was in so much pain. Jason went to sleep and I could not. She jumped up in our bed and let me spoon her and hold on to her — all night long. Every contraction, I cried out in pain and just clung to her. She offered me comfort by giving me a place for my pain. She will forever be my birth partner.
Whenever I grieve her loss, the loss of my dog, I am also aware of others who have sustained far greater losses… a parent, a partner, a child. Security, safety. Deep, profound losses permanently etched into the foundation of your life, in everything you do. And I think of the times when I have known loss, and she was always there. She loved me through it. Always giving me a place for my pain.
Every night after her cancer diagnosis before I went to bed, I would love on her, look her deep in her eyes and tell her “thank you.” I would say it out loud so she would hear it, feel it. I was thankful for all of it. The joy, the comfort, the everyday.
Her absence is a presence. I feel it. But perhaps that is her best gift. Feeling so profoundly the loss of her. Because she was such a great dog.