Some people find it odd that I still celebrate these special days. I probably always will- not just for Met, but for all my successor dogs as well. OK I may not be able to celebrate these days with new toys and the like without breaking the bank by the time I am on my fourth or fifth dog, but these days will always hold special meaning in my heart.
If Met were still in our lives, he would now be fifteen years old. I often think about this concept. I have many friends like Rox'E at the Doghouse- Let the Fur Fly blog who have senior retired guide, hearing, or service dogs. Though I feel very happy for them that their dogs are still in their lives, I know that no matter what way I slice it, I would not want Met to still be in my life.
Please don't take this the wrong way. For over a decade, Met was my entire life quite literally. From the time he began public access, I can count on one hand the times when I went somewhere without him. In these situations, I had someone else with me. They were very specific situations where there was a huge reason for leaving him home alone. Because of my approach though, I was quite literally afraid of the outside world. By losing Met when I did, I was forced to face the reality of my progressive disabilities. In a sense, Met's death allowed me to gain a level of independence I never felt possible. Lets face it, I grew up a lot through a loss that I never imagined I would ever rise above.
Met's life was not an easy one. Though we gained great control over his vaccinosis, it was forever a balancing game of tweaking meds, supplements, or the like. It was a partnership where I had to think just as much or more about how what I needed to do would impact him as to my needs to head out. In hindsite, I see that this partnership should have ended before his time on earth did.
I don't have near the regrets now that I had when I lost him. Met's life taught me things that I never would have learned otherwise. Essentially I did a whole lot of growing up through the journey through vaccinosis and progressive disabilities.
One thing I was able to admit after Met's passing and still feel to this day is that I am relieved by his passing. Don't get me wrong- I still have moments from time to time when it stings and I just miss him, but I know that death was the kindest thing that ever could have happened. I can't imagine what his life would be like, had he not succumbed to the disease back in 2007. It was his time. I can see that just as clearly as I did back on that beautiful autumn day in 2007.
I will forever love and cherish the dog who showed me that my disabilities did not have to be so complicated and difficult to manage and rise above. I will forever be grateful for the journey filled with lessons- both good ones and tough ones; for in experiencing them, I was able to grow in ways I never fathomed possible
Forever those auburn eyes will be burned into my mind as they led me through life's uncertainties
Thankyou my sweet tri-colored boy for showing me just how much I could accomplish with you at my side