I'm finally writing about this.
The love of my life died very suddenly on September 18th. I still move back and forth between guilt and sadness. To paraphrase my vet, Reese *should* be home with me now and *should* have gone home that night like the people at the emergency vet said. However, Reese presented with asthma symptoms but took turns no one expected - what happened was very, very rare.
When she had her the first seizure (the first "neurological event") Dr. Dunagan said most animals are treated and go home either not to have other seizures again or not for some time. It was almost unheard of for her to have another immediately after - particularly a grand mal seizure. Again, after the second seizure, she should have been treated and sent home (not immediately... but after a little time).... for her to arrest (her heart to stop) almost never happens.
Intellectually I understand I can't control anything neurological. I understand it wasn't my fault this happened - and I can see the sequence of events... Had I not taken her to the vet, she would have died at home and I would forever blame myself for not taking her in. I still don't understand why I didn't get to say goodbye.
But I do understand several things...
I understand she loved me completely. I understand I valued every day with her. I remember mornings on the couch together - meditating and drinking coffee (she would head-butt my coffee cup and cuddle under the blanket) and thinking to myself, "these are the days I'll cherish when she's gone." I understand she taught me how to love unconditionally. She taught me about loving what is. She taught me about caring completely and totally for something and putting myself second.
I always expect the big things in my life to mean so much. New Years and birthdays should be spectacular, but rarely meet those expectations. But she was so little and brought so much. Her love and what she brought to my life is inversely proportional to her size.
