Twas' Not My Lips You Kissed, But My Soul...

Lucy Lou Bugga Boo

I am the lucky one. For those of you that are aware of the tragedy that struck my life at the end of last week, that may seem like a very odd statement. Late Thursday, in a totally unexpected, and gut-wrenching way, I said goodbye to my darling Lucy.

Unbeknownst to me, Lucy had an UN-diagnosed heart condition. And on Thursday, her big heart just gave out. I was sitting beside her holding an oxygen mask over that amazing, soft little nose and stroking her back when I felt the last breath escape her amazing little body. It was that very instant that I felt heartbreak like nothing I have experienced before. I literally felt my heart shatter. I was not prepared to lose Lucy, and still it seems unimaginable.

My grief is overwhelming. It blankets my soul and my body and I feel a tremendous burden of loss, my body actually feels heavy with heartbreak. I am having a hard time finding anything to do that soothes my hurting heart. I suppose in those moments when I waited for the emergency animal hospital to open, in some part of my mind, I knew that she would not be coming home with me. Of course, I tried to deny it, but her body was so lifeless and so weak. She was not at that moment my wild, vibrant, wiggling Lucy.

It would be my last conversation with my Lucy Lou Bugga Boo. Words poured from my lips to let her know how much I loved her at an even greater rate than the tears falling from my eyes, I honestly do not know how I managed to speak.  My legs were weak and shaking as I realized that she was fading right before my eyes. But, damn it, she would leave this earth knowing how much I loved her and cherished her. As annoyed as I was that the emergency hospital was not open when we got there, now, I am grateful for those last moments with Lucy. I am even more grateful that an hour prior, in a struggle to figure out how to get her in the car, I held her soft little body in my lap and kissed her head at least a dozen times. I did not know then that it would be the last time...

Oh, the hurt...

Yet, yesterday afternoon as I sat reading the lovely notes being sent to me by my friends, I felt a small burst of light enter my body and my mind starting to wander in a direction opposite of my grief. As I sat on my patio, later, with Duke at my feet, and Lucy's favorite toy next to me, a warm breeze came across my body and I felt my soul lighten. Lucy. "Mama, don't cry!"

Five and a half years ago, whether by choice, or whether Lucy forced me to do it, I opened my heart completely to being in love with her, and being loved by her. There was never a moment when I doubted that she adored me, and I was 100% completely in love with her.What a gift it was to be loved by that little boxer girl and to love her right back. My heart has been so full of Lucy induced joy! Honestly, I cannot say that there was a single day that my flashy fawn boxer girl did not make me smile. In five and a half years, there was not a day that she did not fill my heart with pure delight and joy. There are no words...

Just a short week ago, while laying on the couch with a horrible head cold, I woke up cursing because I could not breath. I blamed it on the cold. Actually, I could not breath because I had a 67-pound boxer named Lucy sitting on my head.

Lucy was a gift. I miss her in a way that I will not even attempt to describe, and I know that I probably will for a long time. But, I cannot help but feel grateful for having loved that little girl enough to feel real, honest heartbreak when she physically left me. Lucy will never be completely gone from me, she is a part of me. "Twas not my lips you kissed, but my soul". I did not give birth to Lucy, but she is a part of me, and she always will be. The lessons that my little darling taught me are too many to even write down here. The ways that she touched my life, are numerous.

As I sit here this morning thinking about Lucy, I once again have tears streaming down my cheeks. I am trying hard not to be angry that my time with her was just not long enough because she would not want me to be angry. I know she would not want me to be sad. Actually, if she were here and caught me crying, she would run off to the toy box in that frenzied little way of hers, and bring me back a toy. She would force me to "get silly" with her.

Lucy was my first boxer. I will always be "Lucy's Human". I will forever remain grateful for the five and a half short years that I spent with that amazing, loving, goofy, wonderful little boxer. Yes, I am the lucky one, because she loved me. And I am lucky because I allowed myself to love and be loved by one of God's greatest gifts... an animal!