Love. Life. Grief.

On June 29th I said goodbye to my 4 lb. sidekick, my furbaby, my loving and faithful companion Zizka.

I have lost several dogs in my life but losing her has been the hardest. Since the moment she came into my life she showed me that size doesn’t matter, it’s all about the bark, boundaries, and confidence. These past several months have been challenging, as this is the first time I have lost someone that has been so close to me, someone who has been a part of my everyday life. I always knew that when this day came, I was going to feel deep pain and loss, and I promised myself that I would allow all the emotions to come up and out.

When I was told that she had cancer on March 17th and that she had a couple of months to live, I remember not being able to breath for a couple of minutes. The shock of this news, while I was staring at her appearing to be perfectly healthy on the outside, was too much for me. Then as the tears rolled down my face, I remember my Vet saying to me, “Jenelle, she doesn’t even know she is sick.” This hit me energetically and I knew that if I acted like she was sick, she would be sick. I knew in that moment that I was not going to treat her any differently. I truly believe this is what extended her life an additional 2 months past the prognosis.

On Easter Sunday she was vomiting, and I got really scared. I started to panic and the thoughts racing through my mind were “this is it”. When I became conscious of my thoughts, I knew that I had to calm down for her to feel calm, so I went into a deep meditation with her on my lap. During the hour-long meditation, I kept repeating to myself that she was healthy, she was one with me and The Divine, she was a beautiful healthy soul, etc. Then towards the end of my meditation I felt this warm sensation all over and inside of me, it was love, and a voice said to me, “everything is going to be ok”. I cried tears full of mixed emotions ranging from love, joy, sadness, disbelief, anger, etc.

The next morning, she had her routine 2 week checkup and her bloodwork came back with great results. We were able to take her off a couple of medications and I knew that that voice was part of the infinite spiritual presence that is never in absence. I cried because of the miracle I witnessed and felt that day. I cried because I knew that Zizka would never be alone. I cried because I knew in that moment that she would always be with me, and that she would always be by my side.

We had 11 years together and I am beyond grateful her companionship and love.

I am so thankful that we were brought together and that we got to share many beautiful experiences together. One of my favorite things that she used to do was sit on my chest in the morning to wake me up. She would lick my face until I sat up, at which time she would stretch, and bark as to say, “good morning”. I miss those moments very much.

2 days prior to her leaving her body, she stopped eating. This is when it hit me. This is when I knew that she was giving me the sign I asked her for, which was to let me know when she was ready to go. She was no longer eating or playing. She was no longer happy, healthy, spunky Zizka, she was sick and tired. She put up a fight and didn’t let anyone see what was going on inside. Her last check-up revealed that the cancer spread to her lungs, and they were filling up with fluid. I knew her time had come, and her fight was over. The cancer may have taken her body, but her spunky spirit showed up in spurts all the way up until her heart stopped beating.

The morning of her passing she had 2 seizures. I prayed and sang “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” to her several times. All I could do was hold her in my arms and tell her how much I loved her, how much she meant to me, and how thankful I was to be her mom. I got to hold her in my arms until she took her last breath. We were blessed to have had a service come to our house to perform the euthanasia. She was in her space, her bed, her blanket and in my arms as she drifted away. It was one of the hardest things I had to do, and I would do it again. She was surrounded with so much love in that moment. It was so peaceful to witness her without pain, but also so very sad. My loud sobs and aching body consumed me. I had never felt that kind of sad, ugly, heart wrenching pain before. It felt like my heart was being pulled out of my chest and there was nothing that I could do to stop it, but I knew that I didn’t want to stop it. I knew that I needed to feel all of it, and I needed to let it all out.

As the Vet left with Zizka in a basket, wrapped up in a blanket, I cried so hard and prayed until I fell into my husband’s arms. It was done. She was gone. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, I wasn’t ready to let her go, but I have come to realize that there would never have been a time where I would have been ready.

An hour or so later, a storm came through and I stood in the rain crying, repeatedly saying, “I love you Zizka”, “I miss you Zizka”, and “Thank you for your love”. The rain lasted a short bit and then a beautiful rainbow appeared in the sky, and I knew that was her way of letting me know she was ok.

Life is full of miracles and mystery, and I am so thankful to have the miracles she sends my way, especially when her presence changes my perspective from fear to LOVE.

I can’t believe it’s been four months since she left her physical body. I have good moments and then moments where I just break down and cry. I know she is by my side every single day because she has reminded me several times.

When you open your heart to the mystery of life, miracles unfold before you. You have to believe in something infinite, something so big that exists outside of you, something so loving that is always for you and never against you to witness these miracles. Open your heart and your eyes will forever be changed.

My life and heart will forever be changed by a little 4 pound, one eyed, spunky, loud, loving, big-hearted, silly, joyful, and compassionate dog. Zizka you were so much more than a dog and you live on as my spiritual sidekick. Thank you for loving me.

As the Kotzker Rebbe, a nineteenth-century Hasidic rabbi, said: “There is no heart more whole than a broken one.”