This is the worst post I’ve had to write in some time. Just the worst.
We had to say goodbye to our Bridget-Boo 24 days ago. She’d been sick for nearly two years and got progressively worse from month to month. Vomiting and diarrhea – but a strong appetite and lots of personality.
The vet told us she either had cancer or a severe GI problem. The end result was the same: Untreatable. Our little girl was slowly starving to death. When we took her in on December 2nd, her last day with us, she was just 5.5 pounds.
We’d had Bridget for 15 of our 20 years as a married couple. She was an important addition to our home in London – picking us as much as we picked her. She was a devil and a lover, opinionated and smart, bossy and sweet, all in a single bunny-soft furry package.
So many people knew her:
- Hunters Glen Baptist Church family
- Sent Church family
- Rayners Lane Baptist Church family
- Prairie Creek Baptist Church family
- East West colleagues
- U.K. colleagues
- Urban Design Group colleagues
- Beck Group colleagues
- City of Plano colleagues
- Phillips Group colleagues
- Petsitters
- Three vet practices
- Plus tons of friends who stay connected to us through social media and this blog.
Saying goodbye to her meant, in some ways, the closure of those relationships. Yes, we still have those relationships, but we’ve all collectively lost something that connected us.
It hurts. And it will hurt for a while. We do have the boys and they are sweet and snuggly. But they aren’t smart like the Boo. They aren’t bossy like Bridget. And they aren’t a girl, so the days of crooning “Hey little girl” are over.
Even though I’d never met her, I loved Princess B (as I liked to call her in honor of her British heritage) because I knew how much she was loved by you and Kelly. She enriched your lives as you did hers. And, she knew love because of you. There will always be a Bridget-sized hole in your heart. My heart breaks for you.